


The Death of a Soul

by roedhunt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Drama, Explicit Language, First Time, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-01
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 41
Words: 123,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roedhunt/pseuds/roedhunt
Summary: New Chapter is UP!!  Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? …  Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Warnings:** HET in chapters One and Two.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter One**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The fading sun was casting the most brilliant shades of orange, pink, and red, letting the world know that night was speedily approaching. Two lone figures were sitting under a tree watching the spectacular colours of nature. The highlights of red were glittering through her hair as she shifted her head that was resting on the folded legs of her love. For so long she had waited for this moment. Every day she sat by waiting as she watched him shy away from other girls. She knew she was the one. The one who would win his heart. All she had to do was wait.

Ginny didn't love Harry for his fame, nor for his bravery, glory, honour, or for his status in the Wizarding World. No. She loved him for him; just the way he was. Every girl fancied him because he was Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, and not Harry the man. She had known that one day Harry would tire of them, and see what their intentions truly were. And she would be waiting.

Harry leaned back against the large tree, and closed his eyes as he absently stroked his girlfriend’s hair. After the last three months he would never have believed that he would be sitting outside, so exposed, so vulnerable, yet feeling so safe, as well. He tried not to think of the recent events, but knew it was impossible. Some things would never be forgotten.

It was the beginning of the war between the Order of the Phoenix and Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but it had been a long battle. Longer than anyone had wanted. There were a few deaths, but they were mostly from the Dark Side. Voldemort had been injured, both he and his followers were driven away for the time being, but they would eventually return. The images were still clear in Harry’s head as if it happened only yesterday, and not three months ago.

Harry looked down to the girl who was lying on her side with her head resting on his lap. He still couldn’t believe he had found someone that loved him for him and not for his fame. And she had been there the entire time, just waiting. He admired her determination and her patience. She knew he had other responsibilities to worry about first before he thought of finding love. And find it he did. In the arms of Ginny Weasley. She gave him everything he ever wanted, and she didn't rush him to do the same. But in the end, he couldn’t deny his feelings for her or her unconditional love.

He smiled softly as he remembered their first kiss. It was the greatest moment in his life. It was tender and loving, yet passionate. Harry’s smile turned into a full grin as he thought of Ron’s reaction to the news of their relationship. To Ron, Ginny would always be his baby sister, and not seen as a young woman in love. Especially not his best friend’s love. The other Weasley family members, however, were ecstatic to learn of their devotion to each other. They welcomed Harry with open arms. It did not matter that she was only sixteen and he was seventeen. Harry would soon be eighteen, and Ginny seventeen in a few months anyway.

“Harry? Are you all right?”

Harry shook away his thoughts, and looked down to those beautiful hazel eyes filled with concern. He smiled and nodded.

“Were you thinking of … _him_?”

“Voldemort, Ginny. And no, I wasn't.”

She sat up to be face-to-face with him, and her own face was slightly distorted with worry. “Was it about that stupid Life-Debt?”

At the end of the battle, Harry and Voldemort stood in front of each other, eyes locked, and wands drawn. Harry could barely remember the rest of it, only being woken up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. He swore he saw a flash of green light, but he was told Professor Severus Snape intervened and stopped the Killing Curse that was to be used on Harry, injuring Voldemort in the process. Because Snape had saved him, and exposed himself as a traitor to Voldemort, Harry owed him a Life-Debt.

Harry softly smiled at Ginny, and caressed her cheek. “Actually, I was thinking of us.”

The redhead’s eyes widened and she let herself be pulled in for a deep kiss. Strong arms wrapped around her, and turned her around so her back was against his chest. She sighed and hugged the arms that surrounded her, before gasping as a pair of warm lips caressed her neck. Harry held her close with one arm, whilst the other slid down her body. His hand brushed along her blouse, lightly touching the skin underneath.

Moments like these were becoming more frequent, but both of them always responded as if it was their first time. Ginny pushed her head back into Harry’s neck, and instantly their mouths latched onto one another. Ginny’s left hand nudged in between their bodies until she found what she was looking for. Harry gasped, breaking their kiss briefly. He lowered his hand further down her body, and gently lifted her skirt to reveal white cotton underwear. The young woman held her breath as she felt his fingertips graze the top of her moist area. Ginny reached the front of Harry’s trousers, and molded her hand around his excitement.

Both of them wanted this to be flesh on flesh, but they knew it would be too risky here in the open so they settled for this. They settled for anything they could get at this point because it didn't matter how or when, just as long as they could touch each other, be with each other, and love each other for as long as they could.

They tried desperately not do make any sudden moves whilst they sat under the tree, but their heat was rising and their moans were louder. Harry rocked his hips into Ginny’s hand, and she closed her legs tightly around his. Her underwear had a slight indentation where Harry’s middle finger was rubbing, and he knew from watching her that she loved to be stroked slowly with only the merest pressure. He, on the other hand, loved it firm, fast, and with such pressure that Ginny thought he would be yelling from pain. But he wasn’t. In fact, he was gasping in her ear for her to go faster.

Now they didn't care if anyone was watching them or not. Their climax was overriding any logic and reason that they had left, and they held on to each other tightly as they both gave in to a shattering orgasm that racked throughout their bodies. The couple loosened their grip, and Harry pulled Ginny down so they were lying side by side facing each other. It was then that Harry noticed Ginny was crying.

“Ginny?” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

She turned her face into Harry’s chest, and mumbled, “Nothing.”

Harry guided her face so he could see her and asked, “Ginny, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The young woman rose on one elbow, and looked deep into his emerald eyes. “I’m afraid, Harry.”

Harry frowned then leaned down to rest his forehead on hers. “I know, Ginny. So am I. Things look pretty bleak with the knowledge that the war isn’t…”

“No,” she interrupted. “It’s not that.”

Harry pulled back. “What is it then?”

Ginny sniffed and looked away.

“Ginny?”

“Something is going to happen. Something bad. Between us. I can feel it.”

Harry pulled her down onto his chest, whispering, “Shh. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

Ginny started to shake in his arms. “You won’t be able to stop it. No one will.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Chapter Two

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

**Warnings:** HET in chapters One and Two.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Two**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It took Harry several tries to finally convince Ginny to go back into the castle. She had insisted they stayed outside because walking back in would guarantee the end of their relationship. Harry assured her over and over that nothing could possibly destroy that. He wouldn’t let it. Ginny still didn’t believe him, but she allowed him to half-drag her back up to the common room. She stopped ever so often to plead with Harry again, saying it wasn’t too late. When they stood before the Gryffindor portrait, Ginny tried one last time.

“Harry, please. Please, if you love me, let’s go right now. You have enough money. We could go far away, and no one will ever find us,” she cried.

“Ginny! Listen to what you’re saying. You know I can’t do that.”

She heard his words, but was too distraught to listen. “Please, Harry. Please. I don’t want to lose you,” she pleaded.

Harry quickly took her in his arms, and she latched on tightly.

He stroked her soft curly hair, and whispered, “Ginny. I love you. I truly do. But we can’t run away from whatever _might_ happen. You know how much I hate seeing you cry, but I have responsibilities and so do you…”

The young redhead nodded into Harry’s chest. “I know, Harry, and I do understand. It’s just… I’m afraid.”

Harry pulled away, and cupped her tear-streaked face. “Why, Ginny? Why do you think that we’ll break up?” he asked for the fifth time that day.

She slowly shook her head. “I know we will. I don’t know how I know, only that I know.”

She clung on to him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Harry whispered the password, and gently entered into the common room with her by his side. Sounds of laughter rang through the air, and it only silenced briefly when all eyes shifted to the young couple.

“Harry? Where were you two?” Fred asked laughing.

Fred and George had been asked by Professor McGonagall herself if they would come back to Hogwarts, and tutor a few of the first years in Transfigurations.

“Yeah, mate. Professor McGonagall has been here three times looking for you,” Ron explained.

“We told her you were probably _busy_ ,” George said with a wink.

Harry put his finger to his mouth, and indicated with his head toward Ginny who was buried in Harry’s jumper. Looks of curiosity came from everyone there, but Harry shook his head once with a frown to stop the impending questions. He made his way over to the over-stuffed chair and sat down, placing his girlfriend between his legs. She kept silent save for a few sobs.

“So, Harry,” Fred began. “We were just trying to guess what Snape’s Life-Debt will be.”

“Yeah. I said he’ll make you clean his lab with your tongue,” Seamus Finnegan chimed in.

“Boooring...” Dean Thomas replied. “I think he’ll make Harry give up four hundred points of Gryffindor's.”

“And I told you he can’t do that,” Ron quipped.

“Besides, you know Dumbledore wouldn’t allow that,” George said. “Though I know _I_ would,” he joked.

“ _Professor_ Dumbledore, George,” Hermione spoke up, clearly disgusted.

Ignoring the young witch, he continued. “I said Snape will turn you into his slave.”

“Yeah. His eternal slave,” Seamus added.

Bouts of laughter erupted.

“Wait wait wait! His eternal SEX slave!” Fred cried out.

A deafening silence overcame the room followed by a chorus of, “Eeurghhh!”

“That is not the image I wanted to think about, Fred. Thanks,” Ron snorted.

Fred started giggling, and soon the others did, as well. Hermione kept a close watch on her friend, Ginny, who started shaking uncontrollably.

“Honestly!” Hermione spat, jumping up. “Can you not see what your mindless chatter is doing to her?”

All eyes fell upon Ginny who was being hugged possessively by Harry. Soft mumbles of apologies went out to her, but she still couldn’t stop trembling.

“Ginny?” Hermione whispered.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall entered, and the room instantly became tense.

She looked over to Harry, then down to the small frame of Ginny Weasley.

“Mr Potter. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape wish to speak to you first thing tomorrow morning.”

He gave her a soft nod of the head along with a quiet “Yes, Professor,” and she left without another word being spoken. As soon as the portrait door closed, Ginny jumped off Harry and ran upstairs.

“Ginny! Wait!” And Harry ran up after her.

Everyone watched the two disappear until Hermione cleared her throat.

“I hope you are all proud of yourselves,” she hissed before storming out of the common room.

The room became eerily quiet again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Ginny?” Harry whispered through the small crack of the girl’s open door.

Obviously, she left the door open hoping Harry would follow.

“Ginny, I know that…” he started as he sat down on her bed.

The young Gryffindor witch sat up, and flung her arms around her boyfriend.

“Please stay with me tonight, Harry,” she begged.

Harry was shocked. Of all of the people at Hogwarts, she would’ve been the last one to knowingly break a forbidden school rule.

Before Harry could answer, she pleaded again. “Please, Harry.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry timidly escorted Ginny into the seventh year boy’s room. It took a while before the roaring, teasing crowd would give him an answer, but after ten minutes of jokes, they finally conceded. Sitting on his bed, Harry gently lowered Ginny on to her back whilst kissing her softly. She pulled him on top of her, and flung her legs around his.

“Ginny,” Harry gasped, rising up to his elbows.

She reached up and locked her fingers behind his head, rising up to meet his lips.

“Ginny, stop. Wait.”

“No, Harry. No. If we wait any longer it will be too late.”

“But really, love, I want this first time to be special.”

Soft hazel eyes gazed up at him, sending a warm and loving rush throughout his body. She ran her fingertips over his lips and smiled.

“It will be special.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry Potter woke the next morning with a smile on his face. Never in his life had he experienced such a wonderful feeling such as this. He rolled over to say good morning only to be greeted by a pillow with a small dent in it. He took hold of it, and covered his face, taking in her scent. Of course she’d be gone, but he still had last night’s memories.

It was better than he ever dreamed. She had tasted so sweet, and smelled like vanilla, just like the pillow she’d lain on did. He closed his eyes, and softly smiled thinking of her tender affections. They had seen each other naked before, and had come so close in the past until they had to stop, both restraining themselves. The couple had agreed to wait till they were properly married, but secretly knew they would give into their passion sooner or later. Harry never once imagined it would be this soon.

When the moment had arrived, both froze, and stared into each other’s eyes as Harry pressed against her. Ginny was already prepared, thanks to Harry, so when he entered her, they closed their eyes and gasped in pleasure at this new, intense and all-consuming feeling. Both stilled for a moment, savouring the sensations, and the knowledge that they were each other’s first. It didn’t last as long as they had hoped, but they still had all night. And they used each minute afterwards with as much passion as the beginning, if not more. Thank the Gods Harry put up a Silencing Spell. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry leaned his head back, and watched the warm water fall down from the shower head. He sighed as the liquid flowed down his body, and he lightly stroked his chest, remembering her delicate skin and how it seemed to flush every time he touched her. His muscles were a little sore from last night, yet he was also so relaxed. Ginny had been right. It _was_ special.

Harry finished his shower and towelled off, smiling all the while. He glanced at the clock while he dressed, and saw that he had a good half an hour before the ‘meeting’. Thoughts of Ginny filled his head again, and he realised there was no one else he’d rather spend that short time with. He went downstairs, and began looking for the young girl within the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be found. Harry spotted Hermione talking with Ron, and made his way through the loud, conversing students. He tugged gently on her sleeve, expecting a knowing smile. But she wasn’t smiling. Her eyes told Harry that she had been crying. 

“Hermione?” he asked timidly.

The bushy-haired witch bit her lower lip as she looked at him, then concealed her face in Ron’s school robes.

“Ron…What’s…?”

“She’s not here, Harry. She left earlier with Professor McGonagall.”

“What! Why?”

The other Gryffindors hushed, and turned their attention to The Boy-Who-Lived. His heart sank to his stomach, fearing the worst.

Ron gulped and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“She’s not…expelled, is she?”

Ron’s eyes quickly diverted to his twin brothers for help.

“We don’t know, Harry, but McGonagall and Dumbledore found out about last night,” Fred intervened.

“What? How?”

No one spoke. Harry’s glare flew upon each student, demanding an answer.

“Mr Potter. You will come with me now,” Professor McGonagall said sharply.

All the young Gryffindors jumped except Harry.

He muttered “Fine,” and pushed his way through the crowd, not stopping once. He marched on ahead in front of his teacher, knowing he just angered her further. But he didn’t care. If anyone was to be blamed it should be him, not Ginny. He stood waiting for Professor McGonagall in front of the giant gargoyle, but she was already there beside him.

“Mr Potter, I am very disappointed in you and Miss Weasley,” she said curtly.

Harry said nothing. He only glared at the tall golden creature. He heard her give a frustrated sigh, then opened the stairway.

“Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you.”

Harry didn’t even bother to look back at his teacher as he climbed the moving stairs. He walked briskly to Dumbledore’s door, and loudly sighed before knocking.

“Enter, Mr Potter,” a deep voice came from behind the door.

Harry held his head up high as he opened, and closed the large, wooden door, and crossed the room.

“Sit down, Mr Potter.”

The young wizard stood tall and stoic.

“Please, Harry.”

Harry stayed in one place for a moment longer before giving in and sitting down in front of the man’s desk.

“I am sure you are aware by now that I know of last night’s activities,” he began.

“Professor, you cannot punish Ginny for this. I was the…”

Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him. “Unfortunately, the appropriate actions have already taken place, Harry. Mr Weasley arrived earlier, and had consented to our decision. In fact it was his…”

“What? Where is she?” he shouted, springing to his feet.

“It was his idea for the final punishment, given the circumstances,” he finished. “Please, Harry, sit back down.”

“No! Where is she? What circumstances?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Only Mr Weasley can say where she is now. Even his other children aren’t allowed to discuss this with anyone. Least of all you. I’m sorry, Harry, but as her father, he has the final say.”

“Then I’ll speak to him myself,” he spat.

He turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when Albus shouted after him.

“Harry! You will come back here at once.”

In all the time Harry had known Professor Dumbledore, not once had he raised his voice to him. Reluctantly, he walked back over standing in front of him with his head lowered.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” the boy whispered. He glanced up at Albus, then back down again. “It’s just... It’s so unfair.”

The older wizard nodded, then quietly said, “I know, Harry, but it’s not up to us. We had originally planned to punish Miss Weasley…Ginny, in a different manner.”

Harry gazed up at his teacher with hope, but it was shot down with a slow shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

His eyes fell to the floor again. Suddenly, Harry’s legs gave out, and he fell backwards onto the chair. A brief silence passed between them before Albus spoke again.

“Now there is a matter of your punishment.”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready,” he whispered.

Harry waited patiently for it but Dumbledore remained quiet. The young wizard peered over to him through his fringe only to find the older man’s eyes focused on the farthest wall.

“Professor?” he asked softly.

Albus closed his eyes, and it appeared as if he was having a conflict of emotions. Clearly this would be bad.

“Harry,” he began after he cleared his throat. “Your punishment has been overruled given the present circumstances.” Albus said that statement like he had rehearsed it like a line in a play. And there was that word again.

“Sir? I don’t understand. Why would my punishment be overruled? And what exactly is the …”

“Professor Snape has made his Life-Debt known.”

Harry’s green eyes became dark with fear. This was definitely going to be bad.

“He demands your hand in marriage.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	3. Chapter Three

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Three**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry stood in front of Dumbledore's desk unable to blink. He examined the older wizard’s face trying to find a shred of playfulness there. But there was none. It was frozen with complete seriousness, and a tinge of sympathy. Albus cleared his throat, and Harry batted his eyes rapidly to clear his thoughts.

“Harry? Did you hear me?”

Shaking his head in order to think properly, Harry nodded as his expression turned to confusion. His face slowly relaxed, and a small smile crept in.

“I don’t want to insult you, sir, but you’re terrible at jokes. I think I like Fred’s better when he said I’d be Snape’s sex…”

“I’m not joking, Harry,” he interrupted. “I know this comes as a complete shock to all of us, but Severus has made…”

_‘Severus? Since when has Dumbledore ever used Snape’s given name in my presence before? Maybe he had, but never when he was speaking directly at me,’_ Harry wondered silently.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said sharply. “Are you not listening?”

“Sorry, sir. It’s just that you said ‘Severus’ and I was wondering why.”

Albus took a long deep breath. “Yes, I am aware of that, Harry. You will find a lot of things will change now that Severus has made his Life-Debt known.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly as he realised that this was not a prank, and this was real. Very real.

“Maybe you just heard him wrong. Maybe he meant…”

“Harry,” Albus interrupted him again. “When a Life-Debt is submitted, it must be done in writing, along with the stipulations that go along with it. That way there are no doubts of the demands that are made. ”

“Demands,” Harry said flatly.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, Harry. Demands.”

A long agonising silence came between them, both studying each other carefully. Their stare was not even broken in the slightest when the large heavy doors were opened, and a dark figure came forward and stood beside Harry.

“Albus,” Professor Snape acknowledged. He turned to Harry. “Mr Potter.”

Harry’s teeth clenched as that low voice filled his body with a rage that he hadn’t felt in years. His fingers dug into the palms of his hands, and his arms trembled, wanting desperately to strangle the man next to him.

“I trust you told him?” Severus asked directly to Dumbledore.

The older wizard barely nodded.

“Excellent. Then if you have the papers ready, we can summon Minerva so she can be the other witness. I think this coming weekend would be enough time to…” He paused, arching an eyebrow at the unmoving Dumbledore. “Is there a problem?”

Albus glanced between Severus and a furious-looking Harry Potter.

“Perhaps it would be best to discuss this in private with him first,” Dumbledore said, motioning to the shaking boy.

“What is there to discuss? I presume you have already explained…”

“How about discussing in which manner you will die,” Harry spat, finally looking at his hated teacher.

“Ah, yes. Of course. I should’ve known you’d behave in this manner. So _like_ you, Potter,” he drawled.

Ignoring his smug retort, Harry turned back to Albus. “I won’t do it,” he proclaimed firmly.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in this, Harry,” Dumbledore sighed.

“There is no _way_ I will consent to this!”

“I’m sorry, Harry, but this does not require your agreement. The Life-Debt is bound by law to the one...”

“And I am the only one who has control of it, Harry.”

“Shut up!” Harry yelled at Snape. “And don’t you _ever_ call me Harry again!”

“Harry,” Albus warned.

“NO! I refuse! I’d rather die than have to marry him!”

“And that’s precisely what will happen if you refuse,” Severus smirked.

Harry glared at him, and in return, Snape glared back in amusement. He had won. Dumbledore watched the two defiant men stare each other down for a moment before intervening.

“I will give you two gentlemen the opportunity to discuss this in private,” he announced, breaking Harry’s eye contact with Snape.

Harry said nothing as Dumbledore retreated to another room. He felt a pair of dark eyes piercing right through him, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t do it.

“Don’t be a fool, Potter. For once in your life, act mature enough to accept your responsibilities.”

Harry remained silent.

“For Merlin’s sake, it isn’t as bad as you're making it out to be.”

Still no response.

Severus sighed in defeat. In a softer voice he said, “Nothing will change, Harry. You will still be able to do anything you want, say anything you want, live however you want, and have everything you want. The only thing that will change is that you and I…”

“I _want_ nothing more than to see you dead! And I told you never to call me Harry again!”

“Are you not listening, boy?” Snape said, raising his voice.

“That’s right! ‘Boy’! Not a man, but a ‘boy’. You will be marrying a boy!”

“That was only a metaphor, not something to be taken literally.”

“Ha! But I am a boy! I’m only seventeen for crying out loud!”

Severus remained calm. “An adult by wizarding standards.”

Harry pursed his lips tightly, and an angry frown appeared. Snape opened his mouth to speak again, but Harry stopped him.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

Severus quirked his eyebrow questioningly.

“I honestly have no idea what you are referring to.”

“You made them send Ginny away!”

A certain dawning of comprehension crossed Snape’s face. “Ah, yes. Miss Weasley,” he said softly. “I regret that I didn’t have a say of how it was to be handled. I also did not know the extent of your relationship with her.”

“Liar! You knew! You knew we were together and you knew it was serious!”

Severus took in a deep breath. “I only thought it was merely…”

“Well, it wasn’t! We were going to get married, you bastard!” Harry screamed at the top of his lungs. “And you had to ruin it, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand the idea that The Boy-Who-Lived was happy, could you? You just had to make my life miserable again!”

“Making you miserable has never been my objective, Mr Potter.”

“Stop lying! All you have ever done was lie to me!”

Snape began to growl. “Listen here, Potter. This is the Life-Debt I have chosen, and you will abide by it. End of discussion.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus Dumbledore quietly entered back in his office, and took his place behind the large desk.

“Has there been an agreement?”

“Yes,” both wizards said at the same time.

Severus furrowed his eyebrows at Harry. It couldn’t be this easy, could it?

“Very well. I will have the appropriate paperwork arranged, and will send for you both when it’s ready.”

Harry raised his head high, and threw back his shoulders. “I chose death,” he said flatly.

“What?” Snape spouted at him, although he wasn’t really surprised.

“Harry,” Albus started slowly. “Death is not an option. If you refuse, and I strongly recommend that you don’t, the consequences will be a lifetime sentence in Azkaban,” he said grimly.

The look on the young Gryffindor’s face showed his internal struggle, and Severus watched him contentedly. He knew Harry was imprudent, but Snape also knew he wasn’t stupid. Soon heat was beginning to radiate from Potter, filling the room with his frustration. After a long moment of silence, and his eyes fixed solely on Dumbledore's, Harry finally nodded.

“Well, it seems I have no choice then,” he said flatly.

Albus exhaled in relief. “A wise decision, Harry.”

“You will call me when everything is prepared, sir?”

“Of course, Harry.”

“Good,” he said before turning to the door. “Oh, and Professor?” he asked, stopping briefly.

“Yes?”

“Will you also have a power of attorney paperwork set up for my things with Miss Hermione Granger’s name on it?”

Harry didn’t wait for an answer, and continued walking away.

“That won’t be necessary, Potter. You may keep all of your belongings,” said Severus.

Harry paused and looked over his shoulder with an evil smirk. “That’s funny. Last time I heard, you weren’t allowed to bring anything with you to Azkaban.”

He snorted as he heard screaming behind him, and he closed the heavy door.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry walked briskly back to the Gryffindor common room as if Voldemort himself was at his heels. His mind was such in a whirlwind of anger that he was surprised he didn’t hex anyone that he had passed in the halls. He commanded the fat lady to open with the day’s password, “Victory,” and then started to march up to the seventh year dorm rooms when two voices rang out as one.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Fred and George said together.

Harry whipped his head around to their direction. “What are _you_ two still doing here?” he snapped.

The redheads blinked simultaneously then Fred replied, “McGonagall wants us to stay a few more days to tutor a few more third year students.”

“Harry, what’s going on?” George asked defensively, not liking the Golden boy’s rude behaviour.

“Why don’t you ask your _father_?” he sneered, and then stalked up to his room.

Harry jerked open the door and, with amazing strength he had from his anger, he threw his trunk onto his bed with ease. He yanked the top open, and began tossing his things into it. The whole time he was doing this, he grumbled to himself, and cursed like he had never done before.

How dare they. It wasn’t enough to be The Boy Who Lived, was it? Or the saviour of the Wizarding World. Harry was even deceived by those closest to him to be used as a pawn to kill Voldemort. All of Harry’s life had been planned out before he was even born. Then came the unwanted notoriety, fame, and the leniencies that went with it. He never asked for all of this. He didn’t want it. Everything had rested on his young shoulders, and he didn’t even have a say so in it. He made not one decision that had involved his entire life. And now this.

For once in Harry’s seventeen years, he finally thought he had control. Voldemort was defeated once more, although he was still alive, and Harry had found someone who truly made him happy. Someone that loved him just as he was, Harry James Potter, and not the famous boy by name alone. But now Ginny Weasley had been taken away from him, and another demand was made _for_ him. Taken away? No, ripped away was more like it.

All Harry had ever wanted was freedom. Not from responsibilities, but to choose. And now he had lost even that. No more choices. He always did everything they had asked of him, and now they wanted more. More decisions had been made regarding his life. Why couldn’t they find someone else? Why always him? And now he was forced to get married! To a man for crying out loud! And not _just_ a man, but Snape. Snape of all people! Snape who had tortured Harry for years, and humiliated him every chance he could get. 

No! He wouldn’t do it! For once, _no one_ was going to tell him what to do. He had finally made a choice of his own, and this was it. _His_ choice. Besides, Harry had nothing to live for anyway. Not now. 

His mind was so filled with rage, that he barely heard the door behind him fly open.

“Harry! What’s going on?” Hermione blurted out.

“Yeah, mate. What _are_ you doing?” Ron asked with the same confusion in his voice. “And what the hell did you say to Fred and George?”

“You're supposed to be in lessons,” Harry said in a detached voice, not even bothering to turn around.

“Professor McGonagall released us so we could come and talk to you,” Hermione explained. “So please tell us, Harry. What’s going on? Why are you packing?”

Harry still was throwing things into his chest, ignoring his friends’ obvious concern. “I’ll explain everything when I return from Professor Dumbledore’s office.”

“No! Tell us now,” Ron barked as he walked around Harry’s bed so he could face him.

Harry raised his head long enough to glare at the redhead. “I said I’ll tell you later,” he said evenly.

His friend’s eyes widened at that, and parted his lips to respond, but he stopped when a terrified looking Neville Longbottom came rushing into the room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	4. Chapter Four

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Four**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry,” Neville said nervously. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Harry guessed Professor McGonagall released Neville from class, as well.

“Tell him to go away.”

“Ha-rry,” the boy stuttered. “It’s Professor Snape.”

“I know who it is. And I said to tell him to go away.”

“M-me? Harry… I-I can’t tell him that,” he whispered.

Harry sighed. He should’ve known better than to ask Neville. “Fine. _I’ll_ tell him.”

“Tell me what exactly?” Snape asked dryly, walking into the room.

Harry gritted his teeth, and clenched his hands by his side.

“Professor, this is the Gryffindor tower,” Hermione said softly.

“I know where I am, Miss Granger,” Snape said sharply, and Hermione looked down embarrassed. “And like you, Mr Longbottom and Mr Weasley, I have permission from Professor McGonagall, as well. Now, if you will please excuse us, Mr Potter and I have unfinished business.”

The three of them cast curious glances between Snape and Harry, watching as the two glared at each other.

“ _Now_ , if you please,” he said firmly, never taking his eyes off Harry.

The three friends quietly said together, “Yes, sir,” and left silently.

Harry scoffed at him, and turned back around to continue packing. He felt Severus advance on him, but made no attempt to acknowledge him.

“Are you quite done now?” Snape hissed. “Or are you going to continue this little fiasco?” He paused a moment for a reaction from Harry, but there was none. “You’ve proclaimed your disapproval loud and clear, so may we come back to reality now?”

Still no response. Instead, Harry pulled open the drawers of his bedside table, and began lifting items out to place them inside his trunk.

Snape sighed in exasperation. “Would you stop with the dramatics, Potter? You know as well as I do that you’re only doing this to gain some sort of sympathy.”

Harry’s body stilled briefly, but moved over to the table again to retrieve more of his things.

“Damnit, Potter! Enough! The sooner you grow up and face your responsibilities, the sooner we can get past all this rubbish!”

Harry slammed one of the drawers closed. Finally a reaction. He turned around and glared at his Potions master, but still said nothing. A heartbeat later, Harry went back over to his wardrobe closet, and checked one last time for anything that he might have missed.

Severus took in a deep breath of air and slowly released it.

“Harry,” he started, intentionally using his given name. “I meant what I said that _nothing_ will change. You will continue your schooling, and pursue any line of work that you desire. I understand that you are interested in becoming an Auror. If you no longer wish to seek that, I _will_ support you in whatever profession you choose.”

The quiet boy snorted, then proceeded to straighten his clothes that he had thrown in his chest, and began folding them neatly.

“Yes, some things will change. I won't deny that,” Severus said, answering an unasked question. “But they are not what you think.”

Harry spun on his heels and snarled. “How do _you_ know what I think?” he spat viciously.

Snape smiled inwardly. He had finally forced the boy to speak.

“I assumed that you…”

“You assumed? You _assumed_?” he cried. “You don’t know what I’m thinking, so don’t assume anything!”

Severus’s face was calm. “Then why don’t you tell me, and we can work it out.”

“Work _what_ out? There’s _nothing_ to work out!” Harry snapped. “I’ve made my decision,” he stated firmly.

“Of course you have,” he said sarcastically. “And everybody _knows_ that once Harry Potter decides something, it will be done instantly.”

Harry narrowed his green eyes in contempt. “I have nothing more to say to you,” he said in a low voice, and then turned back around to close his chest.

“Don’t be a fool, Potter. You know they’ll deny your decision.” Snape said matter of fact.

Harry looked over his shoulder. “Get out,” he said in a harsh tone.

“I am _still_ your Professor, and you will show me…”

The Gryffindor wizard whirled around, wand drawn. “And I’m _still_ a student, so stop calling me Harry!” He paused. “I. Said. Get. Out.”

Snape’s eyes flared. “Don’t you _dare_ threaten me, Potter,” he warned.

“Harry! Severus! What’s going on here?” Professor McGonagall said in a raised voice.

Severus’s eyes averted to his colleague, whilst Harry’s never broke contact with him.

“Minerva,” he addressed. “We were just discussing…”

“Harry, lower your wand now.” Professor McGonagall ordered, ignoring Snape.

He brought it down slowly, still glaring at Professor Snape. Minerva crossed the room, and held out her hand.

“Your wand, Harry.”

The young wizard held it out, and shot Severus a hateful look who in return smirked. She snatched it out of his hand then stepped back.

“If that was an attempt for you to be sent to Azkaban, Mr Potter, it was a foolish one,” the older witch said curtly.

Harry drew his attention to her, pursed his lips in a tight line, and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. She eyed him suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing.

Professor McGonagall turned to Snape. “Albus wants to see both of you in his office immediately.”

“Certainly. Shall we?” Severus said, gesturing for her to go first.

She nodded then looked back at Harry.

“Thank you, Professor,” he responded in a neutral voice.

She stopped in her tracks, and turned around to face him.

“Harry. You may call me Minerva.”

The Gryffindor’s eye flared, and clenched his jaw. “With all due respect, _Professor McGonagall_ , that would be highly disrespectful, and very inappropriate,” he bit back.

“But you are allowed, Harry,” she replied firmly.

He remained quiet for a moment, and then said, “I believe Professor Dumbledore is waiting for us, _Professor_ ,” adding her title again.

Minerva narrowed her eyes, then retorted, “Then let us be on our way.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The three wizards walked in silence until they stood in front of Dumbledore's door.

“Last chance, Potter,” Severus said, amused.

Harry sneered at him then stood still, waiting for admittance.

“Harry,” Minerva started. “Please reconsider your decision.”

But the boy neither spoke nor acknowledged either of them. The witch released a frustrated sigh, then glanced at the Potions master. He shrugged indifferently, and nodded once. She frowned and knocked on the large wooden door.

“Enter,” Albus called out.

The door opened, and the two teachers strolled in first. Harry followed behind them till they stepped aside so Harry could see what was in front of him. Dumbledore sat behind his desk watching Harry’s expression as the raven-hair wizard took in the sight. Next to Albus, stood a very concerned-looking Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, along with several members of the Order.

“Harry. Severus. Please take a seat,” Dumbledore said kindly as he pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk.

Professor Snape walked over, and sat down whilst Harry stood behind his chair.

“Harry?”

“I’ll stand thank you.”

Albus sighed, lowering his eyes.

Cornelius cleared his throat and said, “Harry, the reason we are here…”

“I _know_ why you’re here,” Harry said sharply. “And if this is a formal meeting, I ask that all of you refer to me as _Mr Potter_.”

“Mr Potter,” Minister Fudge began. “Your Headmaster has informed me of your refusal of the Life-Debt Severus…” Harry raised an eyebrow and glared. “Professor _Snape's_ …demands.” he corrected.

Harry folded his arms defensively over his chest. “That’s right, sir.”

“Har-...Mr Potter, we cannot agree to your rash decision.”

“I believe it is _my_ decision, sir, and not yours or anyone else’s,” he said bitterly.

“Mr Potter. The consequences of your refusal is…”

“Azkaban. I am fully aware of the consequences.”

“Then you must understand that we, the members of the Order and the Ministry, must intervene.”

“What? That’s impossible! It’s MY decision! You can’t do that!” Harry cried out, eyes wide open in horror.

“I’m afraid they can, Harry,” Albus said with a soft voice of regret.

“NO!”

The Minister sighed. “It seems that Mr Potter has been under far too much stress recently, and is incapable at present to be making any rational decisions,” Cornelius said to everyone.

“What?” Harry yelled, shocked.

“Therefore, I have no choice but to recommend a trial,” Fudge stated firmly.

“Stop controlling my life!” the young wizard screamed at the top of his lungs.

A nearby glass goblet shattered, sending tiny shards in the air. The room fell silent except for a heavy breathing Harry Potter. Everyone exchanged worried looks for a moment, and then turned to Severus, who wasn’t the least bit intimidated with the powerful display of wandless magic.

“A moment alone with Mr Potter if you will indulge me,” Snape requested. The others nodded quickly.

“I told you, I have _nothing_ to say to you,” he said panting, whilst his body trembled with rage.

“Well, I have plenty to say to you, Mr Potter,” he growled. “Over there,” Severus said with his eyes narrowed.

Harry clenched his fists, wishing he had his wand. If he could only hex him into oblivion. He marched over to where Snape pointed in front of the fireplace. The Potions master followed, and cast a Silencing Charm around them.

“What is the matter with you, Potter? Have you lost your mind? A trial means this will go public,” he hissed.

“So what?” Harry spat. “What are you afraid of? Everyone finding out that you’re a sick vindictive person?”

“What about you, Mr Potter?” Severus countered. “The entire Wizarding World will think you a coward. Abandoning them in their time of need. They will see you as a selfish spoiled child,” he smugly said.

“I don’t care! I’m sick and tired of people running my life! _My_ life! Why can’t you find someone else’s life to ruin?”

“I am not trying to ruin your pathetic life, you ignorant fool! You will still have everything you have now!”

“Oh really? What about the freedom to marry anyone I want? And why did you choose _this_ of all things? What’s in it for you?” he asked accusingly.

“My reasons are none of your concern,” Snape said nonchalantly.

“None of my concern? The hell it isn’t!” Harry screamed.

“Mr Potter. For once in your miserable life, think of someone besides yourself!”

It took all of Harry’s strength not to punch this evil man. After closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath to control himself, Harry opened his eyes and said very slowly, “You said nothing will change, is that right?”

“Yes,” Snape said, raising a curious brow.

“Very well, then answer this: I understand married people shag.”

Severus winced slightly at his choice of words, but nodded. 

“So that’s it, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Snape asked hesitantly.

“You want to bugger the famous Harry Potter, you sick paedophile!”

Now Severus began to shake. “That is NOT my intention!” he insisted, voice rising louder then he intended.

“Bull shit! That’s what we have to do though!” Harry yelled. “I will never allow you to touch me! _Never_!”

Snape scoffed. “You _will_ abide by the marriage laws, Mr Potter. Just as I will.”

“Never,” Harry hissed. “And I will _never_ touch _you_ ,” he vowed.

“You will. You can count on that,” Severus sneered. “Discussion over.” And the Potions master walked away smiling.

“Never! You hear me? _Never_!” Harry bellowed to his retreating back.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	5. Chapter Five

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Five**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After Snape had walked away, Harry turned to the fireplace, and crossed his arms. Sooner or later, he’d have to face the “authority figures”, but for now, he wanted time to calm down. It was useless to argue any further with them, and on top of that, he had a splitting headache. He closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Realising that he was as calm as he’d ever be, he walked back over and stayed silent; listening to the one-sided “discussion”. After a good hour, the others had finally noticed that Harry was no longer speaking. He had hoped that they would have figured that out 45 minutes ago. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Away from them and away from _him_.

Professor Dumbledore released him from attending classes for the next three days, which Harry thought was redundant because the first day was when he found out about the Life-Debt, and the third day was the trial. So that only left the second day to himself. Harry spoke to no one, and skipped lunch, dinner, and breakfast the morning of his second day. At Dumbledore's request, Dobby was sent to find Harry, bringing him a plate full of food along with the order to eat. Dobby had no trouble finding him, even though Harry was trying his best to hide.

By now, the entire school, as well as the Wizarding World knew of Snape’s Life-Debt. Not much else was told except that there was a minor discrepancy, but nothing to worry about. Harry snorted when he heard that. Discrepancy indeed. He wondered what lies they were telling everyone. Probably something to make Professor Snape look like the good guy, and not the villain. Harry snorted again at the mere thought of that.

Harry leaned back against the tree, where only two days ago, he had sat here with Ginny. Two days. Only two days had gone by. So much had happened in just two days. Harry wrapped his arms protectively around his chest, and let his eyes close. His mind closed off the images of his girlfriend – his ex-girlfriend he had to bitterly remind himself - and tried to get some perspective on his current reality. He secretly knew that he would, in the end, have to marry that greasy bastard.

Harry didn’t know what bothered him more. A forced marriage to 1.) someone who hated him and who he hated back; 2.) the vindictive Professor Snape; 3.) a man; or 4.) because he had no say so in this whatsoever. He decided all of the above, and the more he dwelled on it, the angrier he became. And there was something else, as well. He’d never be happy again.

Harry had thought the worst part of his life was over. He’d been forced to live with the Dursleys; he had watched Cedric die; he had lost his godfather; faced the enemy of the Wizarding World and now this. True, he had good friends and a sport he loved, but what about love itself? He would never have that chance to find it. Ever. What good is life if you don’t have someone who loves you and who you love in return? And what of children? Now the Potter name will die with him.

Harry sighed. The words _“Nothing will change”_ echoed in his mind. Yes, Azkaban would be better.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry woke abruptly, and looked frantically around. Since the first part of the war, he had become a light sleeper. But, he was still at Hogwarts, and was still sitting under the large tree. He gave a small sigh of relief, and relaxed his shoulders enough to hunch over. He started aimlessly picking up the blades of grass, only to let them fall to the ground. Harry heard a slight noise behind him, and immediately tensed up.

“Go away,” he hissed. “I told you before that I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“Such manners, Potter,” Draco Malfoy drawled. Harry jumped to his feet. “Perhaps you’ll finally learn some once you’re… _married_.”

“Shut up, Malfoy! I have nothing to say to you either,” he spat, then spun around to leave.

“What’s the matter, Potter? Snape got your tongue?” he laughed. “Or does that come _after_ the wedding night?”

Harry whirled back around. He panted with rage, advanced towards the blond, and then growled through clenched teeth. “I. Said. Shut. UP!”

Malfoy just rolled his eyes. “Pity you don’t have your wand. I’m sure you’d be blasting me into next week.”

“Next _year_ is more like it,” Harry scoffed.

“I heard they took it away from you, Potty,” Malfoy whinged with a pout. “Now, why would they do that to their favourite Golden Boy, hmmm?” he said, batting his eyes.

The furious Gryffindor lunged at Draco, but he had already moved aside, causing Harry to land on the ground face first.

“Mr Malfoy!” a loud voice rang through the air. “You will remove yourself from here at once! Now!”

The blond glanced to Professor Snape, then back to Harry, who was now standing only a foot away, ready to pounce again. Malfoy curled his lip into a smirk. 

“Another time, Potter.” As he passed by Snape, he gave him a smug nod. “Professor.”

Both Severus and Harry watched the arrogant Slytherin strut back to the castle. Snape looked over to Harry.

“What did he say to you?” he asked evenly.

“Nothing.” Snape raised an eyebrow. “I said nothing!” Harry spat, narrowing his eyes.

The Potions master held his chin high, waiting for an explanation. Harry stared at him, then grunted as he walked towards the forest. Severus caught his arm.

“Harry, once we’re married, you will be given the same respect as…”

“LET GO OF ME!” he screamed, loud enough to scare the birds away.

Harry yanked his arm from Severus’s loose grip, and took a step forward.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t. Touch. Me,” he said in a low dangerous voice.

Snape’s face was emotionless. He quietly sighed. “Like it or not, Mr Potter, we will be married four days hence.”

Harry was too angry to speak. He roughly pushed Snape aside with his shoulder, storming up to the castle. Before reaching it, he yelled over his shoulder.

“Never!”

Harry spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, and their annoying questions. Dumbledore eventually had to step in and instruct that no one was allowed to speak to Harry unless he spoke first. The speech was given at lunchtime, and again, Harry was not present. Nor was he there for dinner. As before, Dobby sought him out and brought another plate of food. This time, Harry was in the Owlery, talking to Hedwig. He spent the night there, but he just couldn’t sleep. He wondered if he would ever sleep again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was about 7 when Dobby arrived to wake Harry up. He nearly jumped out of his skin, scaring the elf with him. Dobby had brought a fresh change of clothes, and informed him that he could use the closest prefect’s shower area. Harry nodded his thanks, and Dobby vanished.

After scrubbing himself clean, and putting on his dress robes, he slowly and reluctantly ventured down to Professor Dumbledore’s office. The Hogwarts castle was as quiet as death. Harry chortled. Perhaps everyone had died. Or better yet, Snape did, and everybody was spitting on his grave. But, unfortunately, he got his answer when he entered Albus’ office. Everyone was already waiting at the trial.

Harry and Dumbledore Floo’d just outside the courtroom door. He took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. He flinched slightly when Albus placed a hand on his arm.

“Harry. It’s not too late,” he whispered. “Please reconsider.”

Harry looked at the huge wooden doors, then back to Albus. He shook his head. “Sorry, Professor. I can’t.”

Dumbledore sighed loudly, then nodded. “Very well,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry knew he was doomed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	6. Chapter Six

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Six**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered the courtroom, was that there weren’t many people there. He was later informed that the individuals, who would be testifying, were not allowed to be present through the duration. Harry sighed as it became very clear to him that all of this was going to be pointless. He would indeed lose.

Albus escorted him to his seat that was facing, of course, the members of The Wizengamot. As Harry looked at all the grim faces staring back at him, he winced when thinking about the last time he was here. However _unlike_ last time, sitting next to him, ten feet to his right, was Severus Snape. Immediately, Harry’s blood began to boil. He tried to divert his attention somewhere else; otherwise they’d have to restrain him. His eyes broke away from this evil man who wasn’t even acknowledging him – thank Merlin - and focused on his fists lying in his lap. He closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths, trying to keep his mind clear enough to be rational. His thoughts were temporary interrupted, however, when a voice called out. 

“Before the proceedings commence, I would like to address the accused regarding the Life-Debt of Severus Snape,” said Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“Allowed,” stated Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

Speaking to Harry, she said, “For the record, please state your name.”

“Harry James Potter.”

“Mr Potter, were you informed of Severus Snape's Life-Debt?”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“And have you read it?”

Harry suddenly realised that he hadn’t. “No.”

Turning back to the counsel, Madam Bones said, “I strongly recommend that this hearing be adjourned until Mr Potter has had the chance to read the Life-Debt contract.”

“Allowed,” Minister Fudge said, giving a sharp look to Snape and Dumbledore.

Harry was ushered into a vacant room, followed by the two men.

“Does _he_ have to be here?” Harry quipped.

“Yes, Harry. Severus must be present in the event that you have any questions,” Dumbledore replied simply.

Harry scoffed and took a chair furthest from Snape. He snatched up the contract, and adjusted his glasses.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**The Life-Debt Contract of Severus Snape:**

_I, **Severus Snape** , on October 31st, 1997, shielded **Harry James Potter** from a killing curse sent by **Voldemort** that was aimed at Mr Potter. By doing so, it exposed my status as a spy for The Order of the Phoenix. It is my strong belief that the said attacker will return to destroy Harry Potter or myself for my betrayal to him, and thus using my information against The Order and/or Mr Potter. I have protected Mr Potter several times in the past, and therefore fulfilled the Life-Debt of his father, James Potter._

_The Life-Debt I have decided upon from said individual, will be a marriage of convenience for the purposes of:_

_1\. The protection of Mr Potter in the event that said attacker will attempt to destroy Harry James Potter again._

_2\. The prevention of myself being captured, and used against The Order and/or Harry James Potter._

_These are the specifications for the Life-Debt that I, Severus Snape, invoke, according to the Life-Debt Law set forward in the year 1678._

_Signed on this day, February 15, 1998._

_ X. Severus Snape _

_ Witness: X. Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian _

_ Witness: X. McGonagall, Minerva   
_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“What?” Harry cried out. “This is full of lies! These are _not_ his reasons!”

“Harry,” Albus said calmly, “I must remind you that once the conditions are in writing, they are bound by law and as such cannot be contested.”

Harry gritted his teeth. He’d contest all right. To hell with the law. “So what does this ‘marriage of convenience’ _mean_ exactly? And in plain words if you don’t mind,” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dumbledore’s expression flickered with hope, thinking the boy might be starting to consider. “It means that you and Severus will become a union for the purpose of your protection and his.”

“ _His_ protection?” Harry sneered.

“It was all explained in the contract. Can you not _read_?” Snape said sarcastically.

A flash of anger crossed Harry’s face and his hands balled up into fists. _‘One more word…’_ Harry’s mind screamed.

“Severus,” Albus said firmly. “There is no need for sarcastic comments. Harry has the right to ask any question that he wants.”

“I apologise, Mr Potter,” said Snape with a curt nod, and a half-grin.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted in his chair. One of his legs was bouncing, just ready to spring into action.

“I’m not stupid you know,” he emphasised. “ _That_ is the reason for the Life-Debt. I asked what the ‘marriage of convenience’ _means_. In other words, what are the _requirements_ of this _union_?” he asked coldly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Albus glanced over to Severus, who in response, shrugged dismissively. Directing his attention back to Harry, Albus softly sighed. Clearly, he didn’t want say this part.

“The ‘marriage of convenience’ will be the same as a standard marriage contract. With a few exceptions of course,” he added. “It will also be a separate document from the Life-Debt, listing the preconditions of the marriage in full detail. Again, there _will_ be exceptions,” Albus stressed. “I was told there will be quite a few of them,” he said, glancing over at Snape for confirmation, and Severus nodded.

Harry already knew what one of them wasn’t. Sex. With Snape. Without hesitation, the Gryffindor barked, “I knew it! I told you there were other reasons besides this _protection_ rubbish!”

“Harry, marriage is a requirement of the Life-Debt because it guarantees the protection of _both_ of you. Without it, there is a risk of danger to you and to Severus. The marriage is simply there to make the bond legitimate and unbreakable.”

In a strange and demented way, the Life-Debt made sense to Harry. “Why can't we just…bond or something? Without the marriage.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Snape spat.

“Severus! Shush!” Turning back to Harry, who was standing by this time, Albus explained further. “Harry, please sit down.” The boy obeyed with a grunt. “A marriage is stronger because it joins two people in a way that a bond cannot.” 

That still didn’t answer his original question. “So what _are_ the preconditions?” he slowly hissed at him, though it was aimed directly at Snape and his smug face.

Albus spoke cautiously, knowing this answer would not sit well with Harry. “That will be determined by Severus. He will discuss them with you in private before putting it writing, and then it will be signed by the Minister for Magic.”

“Discuss what? Oh, you mean the _rules_ ,” Harry said bitterly. _‘Always a vindictive bastard, aren’t you?’_ he thought.

“I have already informed him of the _conditions_ , Albus,” said Snape, ignoring Harry. “But, I will go over it with him again, of course. Just to make sure that nothing is misunderstood.”

Harry understood all right. “No! For all you know, he could force me to run naked through the Great Hall every night, professing my love for him!” Harry spat savagely at Dumbledore. “Or use this contract as an excuse to hit me! Or _worse_!”

“Harry!”

“Mr Potter!” Snape barked at the same time as Dumbledore. He took a deep breath to calm down the best he could. He continued evenly, “I have no doubt of what your assumptions _might_ entail, but I assure you that they will be no less honourable than regular marriage requirements, and it will abide by _all_ the ethics of the wizarding marriage laws.”

“And I know exactly what one of the _requirements_ will be.”

Dumbledore sighed deeply, then looked at Severus for some kind of compromise, but he held the same antagonistic expression. “I will leave the two of you alone to discuss that and any other matter. I’m truly sorry, Harry,” Albus said as he rose from his chair, “but the predetermination _is_ up to Severus.”

Snape sat quietly, hands cupping his bended knee that crossed his other leg. He patiently waited for some type of reaction or an explosion from Harry. But, to his surprise, the young man stood up and marched out of the room, never once giving him a second glance.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry took his place again in the courtroom, and made neither a sound nor a movement as the people he knew and respected gave their testimonies. Each one basically said the same thing:

Even though Severus Snape had many faults, he would no doubt treat Harry with dignity and respect (Harry seemed to suddenly cough every time those words were mentioned) throughout the course of their ‘marriage of convenience’. They knew he would never intentionally harm Harry, mentally or physically, and he would protect him from anyone who would try. Everyone also emphasised that they would be there for Harry, helping and supporting him in whatever endeavours he might encounter during their marriage. Harry coughed again.

As the minutes turned into hours, Harry’s solemn expression turned hard and bitter, while Snape's expression became relaxed, and even showed a hint of self-assurance. Harry still wouldn’t look at him because he knew that he would kill him right in front of everyone. So, Harry stayed silent, listening to each statement. And, with every passing second, he began to wonder if they were only thinking about how the Wizarding World would lose their “saviour”, or because they would lose _him_. Harry tried desperately to distance himself from that thought.

He stared numbly at each person who sat before him, and soon their words seemed to drift into the air, but never quite reached his ears. They all became one monotone voice. Harry thought back to the simpler times in his life. His friends, chess games that lasted into the wee hours and… and Ginny. He wondered what she was doing right now. No! He swore he would never think about her again! But, sadly by doing so, it brought him back to the present. He sighed miserably, and took in his surroundings, and the vacant chair in front of him. Was it finally over? But Harry flinched as the next person’s name was announced: Draco Malfoy.

He listened intently as the arrogant blond spoke about him, calling him names such as “a spoiled, selfish, and an attention-seeker who only thought of himself.” Harry’s first reaction was to stand up and scream at Malfoy, denying everything. But then it occurred to him that out of everyone, Malfoy was the only one who was brutally honest, _and_ had no hidden agenda. _’How funny was that?’_ Harry mused. Before getting up, the blond threw out one more insult about him, but Harry only caught three words: “...what _he_ wants…” Harry’s eyes widened. That was it!

Harry had refused this offensive Life-Debt, but everyone was fighting against him with no consideration to what _he_ wanted. And he’d be damned before he allowed that greasy, vindictive bastard to legally rape him. Didn’t they _know_ that that’s _exactly_ what would happen to him if he had to marry Snape? Were they even told about the sex? Of course they knew; they had to. _Everyone_ knew that Harry was a virgin up until Ginny. _And_ they knew his preference was girls, and would never even _consider_ sex with a boy. Or in this case, a man.

The room was suddenly silent, and it shook Harry out of his trance. Hermione Granger stepped forward. He listened with baited breath as she proclaimed her love for him, and that she didn’t want to lose Harry. His emotions churned his stomach. There was that word again: “Want.” He already knew she would do anything or say anything to stop Harry from going to Azkaban, but a forced marriage to Snape? Why wasn’t Hermione defending Harry? Surely she would’ve found _something_ that would save him. And then there was Ron. Why wasn’t he screaming and hollering at Severus? Why wasn’t he attacking him, strangling his throat, and beating him to a pulp? _‘Why?’_ Harry cried in his heart. _‘Why?’_ Harry felt a few tears run down his cheek. He loved them dearly, and knew that they loved him in return, but something was different now. Something he couldn’t place. But, what he _did_ know, was that he felt cold and hollow inside. And alone.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The end of the trial had arrived, and when it became apparent that he wouldn’t be allowed to speak on his own behalf, he lost complete control, screaming and hollering. Immediately, he was subdued with a Calming Spell. They explained that he and Severus had already made their statement. Harry lowered his head as everyone left for a short recess. Albus Dumbledore was by his side in an instant, letting him know that it would take a while for the members to decide on a verdict, and he was free to join his friends, who were anxiously waiting to talk to him. Harry slowly shook his head, and glanced quickly at Dumbledore. The older wizard placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder for comfort before walking away. There was no need to talk to anyone. Harry already knew what the outcome would be.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry closed his eyes tightly as he heard soft voices filling the courtroom. He guessed that now that the hearing was all over, everyone was granted permission to be in there. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that the tiny room was packed to its capacity. He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t happening. He was somewhere else now, and this was just a bad dream. But the pounding in his chest, and the trembling of his body told him otherwise. Harry felt his heart accelerate with each passing second, and his breathing was becoming louder and more erratic. Maybe he would die from a heart attack. _‘Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?’_ he thought unconsciously.

The room became eerily quiet, and only the sounds of footsteps, and chairs scraping the floor were heard.

“Severus Snape and Harry James Potter. Please rise.”

Struggling to his feet, Harry almost lost his balance several times before finally standing upright. He clenched the sides of his trousers with his fists, hoping to stop his shaking arms.

“The members of the Wizengamot and I, Cornelius Fudge, have come to a unanimous decision.”

Harry’s heart began to beat faster.

“Throughout our history, not one solitary witch or wizard has ever refused a Life-Debt.” 

Drops of moisture clung to Harry’s damp forehead, and he could feel sweat running in trails down his body.

“Recent events, however, has taken a toll on all of us.”

Harry held his breath.

“And because of this, it gives myself or the members sitting next to me no pleasure…”

Harry closed his eyes, and everyone held _their_ breath.

“To award Severus Snape his Life-Debt and…”

Hysterical cries of cheers, laughter, and howls exploded in the small room. Harry’s mind and body froze, not believing what he had just heard.

“Harry James Potter is ordered by the court to fulfill…”

Like a wild animal attacking his prey, Harry screamed, lunged forward, and jumped two feet in the air, aiming his claws at Fudge's throat. That was the last thing he remembered.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	7. Chapter Seven

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Seven**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The sky is beautiful today. Not a cloud in sight. The wind actually feels warm when it caresses Harry’s face as he glides through the air with ease. After searching for what seems to be a lifetime, there it is; just in front of him. He leans down level with his broom, and speeds up after it. The faster he goes, however, the faster _it_ goes. Harry stretches his body dangerously far over the front of his broom, and on any other day, he would have fallen off. But not today.

Today, he’s still safely on his broom, reaching out to take what he wants. It’s just there, right in front of him. Harry wiggles his fingers trying to touch it. To grab it. But only his fingertips graze it once or twice. He stretches his arm further out, and begins to flail frantically in the afternoon air. Suddenly, a gust of wind hits Harry on his side, knocking him off balance. His body rolls over to his right, and he finds that he’s now hanging by his fingers. He looks around helplessly, but then a wave of relief washes through him when he sees his two best friends, and the rest of his classmates, cheering in the stands.

Harry opens his mouth, and starts yelling to them for help. No one hears him. In fact, he can't even hear _himself_ through the thunder of happy screaming. He searches around him, and breathes another sigh of relief when he spots Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. Harry shouts at them, but by the look on their faces, they don’t even realise that he’s in trouble. They too are cheering.

The Gryffindor Seeker could feel his grip slipping, so he tightened his fists. It didn’t work however because each time one had a firm grasp, the other to have it slip off. Harry knows he will soon fall. His eyes plead with his mentors and his friends again, but they are unconcerned. They merely laugh at him. Harry closes his eyes briefly, but they snap open again when it becomes apparent that his hands are holding on to nothing. Panic hit Harry, and his hands claw desperately for something – _anything_ \- to hang on to. But there’s only air. Cold, stagnant air.

Harry is falling.

Harry searches for those friendly faces again, but they are still cheering and clapping, watching him as he falls helplessly. His head jerks to the left when he hears one voice call out to him. It’s Draco Malfoy. He’s saying something to Harry, but his words don’t make any sense. The blond’s face is smug, and he’s sitting proudly atop Harry’s beloved broom. But there’s something odd about Malfoy. His pointy chin is becoming even pointier. His back arches up as his arms spread out in front of him. He’s growing hair! Malfoy is actually growing hair! He’s turning into a … wolf! But it’s not a wolf. It’s more like… like… a coyote! A scavenger. Dark eyes, long snout, sharp nails, and pointy fangs are now visible. Harry can't look at him anymore. He glances one more time to the people he loves, before plunging into the abyss.

_‘ No,’_ Harry says quietly before yelling, _‘NO!’_

“No!”

Harry woke up startled, hearing a loud, stern but familiar voice. His eyes darted around, seeing everything but seeing nothing.

“I’m not telling you again! OUT!”

The young wizard heard quiet words of protest, followed by silence. He took a deep breath when he realised that he’s safe and sound in the infirmary.

“And that goes for you as well,” Madam Pomfrey warned. A low grumble. “I know who you are, and who he is, but he is _my_ patient, and until I give the word, he will have no visitors.”

Another low grumble.

“Don’t you _dare_ speak to me like that,” she hissed. “You’ve done enough damage to that boy. Now, not another word! Out!”

Harry smiled. For once her gruffness was music to his ears. He heard the ruffle of fabric fading, and another approaching, so he quickly lay back down on his side with his eyes closed.

“Sit up and take your medicine, Potter.”

Harry didn’t move.

“I have been hounded for four days now, Potter, and I’m in no mood for games. Now sit _up_.”

Damn she was good. Harry slowly sat up, and opened his eyes. Madam Pomfrey was busying herself with bottles that were sitting on the table next to him.

“Do you remember your dream?” she asked.

“What?” Harry asked as he took the bottle that he was handed.

“You had another nightmare. Do you _remember_ it?” she repeated, irritatedly.

Harry blinked a couple of times trying to get a grasp on what she was referring to. Nightmares? Four days?

“N-no.”

He heard her scoff under her breath. “That’s unfortunate. The sooner we learn what your nightmares are about, the sooner we can rectify it. Then I can have this place back in _order_ ,” she barked softly. “Now drink. It’s only a relaxant.”

Harry watched her as she gathered all the phials on the table, and placed them on a tray. He downed the potion in one gulp, making a face at the foul liquid.

“Madam Pomfrey,” asked Harry reluctantly, after swallowing enough spittle to speak. He didn’t want to aggravate her any further.

“What is it, Potter?” she replied, not looking directly at him.

“Umm…”

She spun around and faced him. “Well, come on. I haven’t got all day,” she snapped.

Harry lowered his face to try to hide his embarrassment. “Will there be any… internal damage?” Merlin, he couldn’t believe he just asked her that!

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry the most peculiar expression. Bringing her attention back to the potions, she said, “No of course not. Lucky for you those imbeciles only used a mild Stunning Spell. But five at once...?” she tsked, shaking her head.

Harry kept his eyes focused on his lap, and swallowed hard. “I meant after. You know…. afterwards.”

The older witch slowly turned her head towards him. She gazed at him for a few moments before nodding, as she finally understood what he was talking about.

“No, Potter. There will be no injury to any parts of your body if it’s done properly,” said Pomfrey in a type of tone that would be used to scold a child.

Harry sighed and nodded once. He drew his legs up to his chest, and held onto them tight. He could feel her eyes boring into him.

“Has no one discussed this with you?” she asked sharply.

Harry only shook his head.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all.” She picked up the loaded tray, and started walking away. “I’m _not_ the correct person you should be talking to. I will send for someone more qualified.”

“NO!”

Madam Pomfrey spun around. Her mouth was hanging open, and her light blue eyes were now dark. It almost appeared that for the first time ever she was speechless.

The boy furrowed his brows, and blushed with guilt. “Sorry.”

To his surprise, she only grunted in her throat as a reply, and then quickly left. He felt so stupid asking her, but he thought she would’ve been medically qualified. He sighed, knowing that wasn’t the real question – and she knew it, as well. Harry rested his head on his knees, and hugged his legs tight hoping to block out the world. He remained like that for quite a while. The potion must have worked fast because in no time at all he was asleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

If Harry had another dream, he didn’t remember it, or it wasn’t that important. He tilted his head side to side, trying to stretch out the kink in his neck. Apparently, his head had rolled on its side, and stayed that way.

“Are you all right, Potter?” came an emotionless baritone voice.

Harry jumped and scrambled backwards, forgetting about his neck.

“What are you doing here? Get out!”

Snape didn’t flinch. “I came to see if you are well.”

“Bollocks! What do you want? Why are you _really_ here?” Harry spat as he covered himself with the sheets, pulling them to his shoulders.

Snape still seemed unaffected by his reaction. “I came to bring you this,” he said simply. He placed a thin roll of parchment at the end of the bed. “I suggest you fully read it. Any questions you might have had will be answered in there.” He turned to leave. “If anything is still unclear, contact me and I will explain further.”

He took three steps, and felt a soft thud hit his back, and looked down behind him. The contract was lying at his feet. Snape sighed and bent over to pick it up. His calm eyes rested on a pair of hateful green ones.

“Potter, it is necessary that you read this,” Snape said.

“And if I don’t?” challenged Harry with more venom in his voice then he thought was possible.

“It isn’t a matter of do or don’t. You need to.”

Not waiting for a retort, Snape placed the parchment back on the bed, and disappeared.

“I _need_ to,” Harry mocked. He stared at the paper and scowled. “I _need_ to,” he bitterly repeated.

Harry reached over, and grabbed it, then tried to rip it in two. It only crinkled. It was clear that it was indestructible. “Figures,” he muttered.

He unrolled it, and the seal crumbled into tiny pieces. Harry took pleasure in that small triumph. He straightened his glasses, and began reading it through narrowed eyes.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_****_

MARRIAGE of CONVENIENCE AGREEMENT

**THIS AGREEMENT** , made this twenty-first day of February in the year 1998 is between Severus Snape and Harry James Potter.

 **1\. PURPOSE** The rights regarding spousal support or maintenance  
 **a.** Protection of each from dangers, harm, reproach, contempt.  
 **b.** Equal rights in making decisions in the life of their family such as the right for fatherhood.  
 **c.** Equal division of duties, and both choose the place of their residence.  
 **d.** Forbids either spouse to be emotionally, mentally, or physically abusive.  
 **e.** Neither be a source of arguing, deception, trickery, tyranny, humiliation, and abuse.  
 **f.** Mutual right for personal freedom, and time alone.  
 **g.** Speak respectfully in absence and in presence to advance each other's good reputation.  
 **2\. AGREEMENT**  
 **a.** Both shall be entitled to respect, understanding, and should overlook many faults, whether they are wise or foolish, intelligent or slow, skillful or clumsy, beautiful or ugly, rich or poor, submissive or rebellious respect.  
 **b.** Patience with each other, and sympathise if any problems or troubles should arise.  
 **c.** In times of anger or disagreements, try not to speak critically to and of the other one, nor use disrespectful words or tone, but speak honestly to one another.  
 **d.** Never discuss with others things about your marriage that your spouse wouldn't like you to discuss.  
 **3\. THE DUTIES OF MARRIAGE REQUIRE LIVING TOGETHER**  
 **a.** Maintaining regular but moderate marital sex.  
 **b.** The equal right for sexual gratification, and must not be characterised by selfishness.  
 **c.** Forced or psychic influence to have sexual relationship is entrenchment on a right of a spouse for personal freedom, and can have consequences in accordance with law.  
 **4\. STAYING FAITHFUL TO EACH OTHER**  
 **a.** Marital sex is designed to remedy impure affections, not excite them.  
 **b.** Information about your intimate relations should be kept between you and your spouse.  
 **c.** Faithfulness also involves keeping each other's secrets. These must not be disclosed.  
 **d.** No sexual activities outside the marriage will be permissible unless otherwise discussed.  
 **5\. EFFECT OF**  
Each of the parties shall separately retain all rights in the property he or she now owns.  
 **6\. FINANCIAL DISCLOSURE**  
Each party acknowledges an opportunity to inquire further as to the financial information provided by the other, and each party specifically waives any right to any further disclosure of the property and financial obligations of the other beyond that provided by the exhibits to this Agreement.  
 **7\. BINDING ON SUCCESSORS**  
Each and every provision hereof shall inure to the benefit of, and shall be binding upon the heirs, assigns, personal representatives, and all successors in the interest of the parties.  
 **8\. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**  
Each party acknowledges that he or she has had an adequate opportunity to read and study this Agreement. Each party acknowledges that he or she has examined the Agreement before signing it, and has been advised by independent legal counsel concerning the rights, liabilities and implications of this document.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even think. He sat still on the bed just staring at the parchment. It was real. This whole thing was real. And now, he could feel all the deep-seated emotions that he had hidden rising up to the surface. Harry blinked once, and his eyes sharpened quickly as a dark spot appeared on the paper below him. Then another. He reached up to his face, and felt just under his glasses, which had slightly slid down. He was crying. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, was crying.

Harry let the parchment slip from his fingers, and removed his glasses. He wiped his eyes several times, but the tears kept falling.

_‘This is it,’_ Harry thought. _‘The life I had and the future I wanted is now gone.’_

He curled up on his side hugging a pillow, and the parchment fluttered to the floor. This time, Harry didn’t stop the tears from flowing. He just let them come.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry tossed and turned, trying to untangle himself from the duvet that surrounded his body. He pushed and pulled, but couldn’t break free. He opened his mouth and screamed, but he heard his own voice wailing. Not screaming. Wailing. He looked left, right and at his feet. He was boxed in. Was he in a coffin? Harry panicked. His wails became louder. His cries caught silent in his throat as four friendly faces looked down at him. Four _large_ faces. Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Their faces weren’t exactly friendly, they were more like – compassionate. And he wasn’t in a coffin. He was in a cradle! And, at the foot of it stood Professor Snape.

They all bent over, and whispered to him, using soft velvety tones. Harry began to scream again. He tried to yell for them to stop it. To stop coddling him. But again, his words were only babbles, and they weren’t even listening to him. Not that they could understand him anyway. But surely they knew. They knew, didn’t they?

Ron and Hermione were pushed away, out of Harry’s vision, and a blond boy stood in their place. Draco Malfoy. He smirked down at Harry, and then crossed his arms.

_“Stop crying like a baby, Potter and accept your responsibilities.”_

With all his might, Harry sat up, ready to strangle the smug boy. 

“Lie back down, Harry. You need to relax.”

Dark hateful green eyes shot over to a pair of onyx one. Severus Snape.

“You had another nightmare, Harry. Can you remember it?”

Harry’s eyes flashed to Albus Dumbledore. He was there as well, along with Hermione and Ron. Harry frantically searched the room for Draco Malfoy.

“Who are you looking for, Harry?” Hermione asked in a soft voice.

Seeing that the blond was not in the room, “No one,” he scoffed.

He narrowed his eyes, and watched each of their expressions, trying to decide which one had told him to stop crying. His hand flew up to his face, but there were no sign of tears.

“Get out,” Harry said in a low voice.

None of them moved, but all opened their mouth to begin speaking.

“GET! OUT!” he screamed. He was happy to hear that he had his voice back.

Instantly, Madam Pomfrey arrived, and motioned the four of them to leave. They each protested, but the angry mediwitch won. After closing and sealing the door, she walked back over to Harry.

“What was your dream about, Mr Potter?” she asked sternly.

Harry looked away. “Nothing.”

“What was your dream about?”

“Nothing!” he snapped.

This time, he wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed for yelling at her. He was tired of people acting like they cared about him. His dreams were his - the one thing he had that was _still_ his. Madam Pomfrey kept her cool and remained there, apparently awaiting an answer.

“I’m fine,” Harry said firmly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m fine! I want to just get this _over_ with.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry held onto the peacock quill tightly. His hand was shaking as it hovered inches above the contract. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He expected someone to say _something_ about his hesitation, but there was only silence.

“What if I refuse? Will there be another hearing, or will you use the Imperio Curse on me?” he whispered, still hanging onto a way out of this.

There was a deafening pause. Then a frustrated sigh.

“Mr Potter,” Cornelius Fudge began. “We didn’t want this to come that.” Another sigh. “If you refuse, you will be stripped of your magic, Obliviated, and returned to the Muggle world with a small portion of your heritance.”

Harry knew as well as they did that death was no longer an option. But losing his power, his magic? Everything that made him different? But most important: Losing the sacred memory of his true love. Although he had swore to himself to forget all about Ginny - he couldn’t. He just _couldn’t_. Ginny had been the first and only one who had loved him unconditionally.

They had deprived him of the aspects of a loving and happy future, but he wouldn’t let them take away the memory of her love for him and his for her.

So, Harry nodded and signed his name as a fresh tear dropped onto his hand.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	8. Chapter Eight

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Eight**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The signed marriage contract disappeared before the peacock quill even hit Dumbledore’s desk. Harry remained focused on the empty place where the contract had sat, still in a state of defeat. It was a full thirty seconds before it even registered to him the happy chaos around him. The atmosphere was now ecstatic. Harry’s hearing sharpened, listening to the conversation going on within the room.

“…the full moon is Friday, so Saturday at 12:01 will be perfect. We will have everything ready and everyone will be informed. The Great Hall will be able to accompany everyone up to about 1,000 once we transform it.”

“And I will get the appropriate attire and the customary rings.”

“Excellent. I see that everything is under control so I will head back to the Ministry and they will be _most_ pleased to hear that another trial won't be necessary.”

Harry couldn’t believe it. They were speaking as if he wasn’t even there. Like he was invisible. A sudden rage of anger filled Harry’s body – one he hadn’t felt since he was told of the Life-Debt.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” he spouted.

The three wizards fell silent with a slight apprehension. Cornelius Fudge was the first to speak.

Addressing Dumbledore and Snape, “Well, I should be off now.” He gave a nervous glance to Harry and all but ran to the fireplace.

“Well?” Harry asked accusingly, his eyes darting back and forth between the two. Neither spoke. Irritated by the lack of response, he continued. “You’re acting like this will be a bloody festive _holiday_!”

Albus managed a small grin. “Harry. Two wizards will be joined - becoming very powerful. The Wizarding World will see that as a monumental occasion,” he said softly, with a bit of hope that Harry will understand.

Harry narrowed his eyes and glowered at Snape who was merely smirking at him.

“Powerful wizards? What are you _talking_ about?” said Harry raising his voice.

Dumbledore turned to the Potions master. “I’ll leave that up to you, Severus. I trust you will explain everything that Harry needs to know?”

Snape's sneer never left his lips. “Of course.”

Dumbledore nodded and quickly walked away to his quarters. Harry watched with distain as Dumbledore retreated and then glared back at Snape. The older wizard folded his arms, waiting for the storm that would surely happen.

“Perhaps you should sit down,” he said calmly, his head motioning to the couch by the fireplace.

“No I will not sit down! Tell me what the _fuck_ is going on!”

Severus barely flinched at the cursing. Harry rarely swore, but he thought this time was _more_ than warranted given the circumstances.

Keeping his voice level, Severus explained. “It seems, Harry, that the Ministry feels you need assistance in defeating Voldemort.”

_“What?”_ Harry screamed.

“Therefore, they were more than happy to concur with my chosen Life-Debt and they do not want any – repeated occurrences like the last time you had confronted _Him_.”

_“What?”_ Harry screamed louder.

“The marriage will strengthen our combined powers, thus making it impossible for the Dark Lord to survive.”

“You can’t take my powers away!”

Severus sighed, frustrated more than he was irritated. “I am not taking anything away from you, Harry. Our abilities will be joined together and each of us will have the same amount of combined power.”

Harry began to tremble. “So they were only bluffing about the whole damn trial and about turning me into an Obliviated Muggle! And _that’s_ why the Ministry was so willing to go along will this rubbish! To protect their precious ‘saviour’ and to save their bloody hides!”

“Correction. To ‘save _all_ their bloody hides’.”

“Of course. How _stupid_ of me,” Harry snapped. He paused for a moment so he could think clearly. “So let me get this straight. I couldn’t defeat Voldemort so therefore I am too weak…”

“You are _not_ weak,” Severus said firmly.

“Well, obviously I must be if they want me to join my powers with _you_ ,” he said mockingly.

“I told you, it will make you strong enough to kill him,” Snape hissed.

“Because I couldn’t do it on my own! Isn’t that right? Isn’t that what everyone is saying? The Boy-Who-Lived failed so now he needs a fucking babysitter?”

“I will not be your babysitter! I will be your husband!”

“That’s right. I forgot,” Harry said sarcastically. “The famous ‘marriage of convenience’. Used for your protection, as well as mine.” Snape clenched his teeth. “Tell me something, _Professor_ , what other lies have you been spouting off to everyone?” he said smugly.

Severus stalked over to Harry and hovered just inches from his face. “Don’t you _ever_ call me a liar again!”

A small smirk crept over the young wizards face as he held his head up confidently. Snape's hand compressed into a fist, a movement not lost to his future spouse.

“Well?” Harry challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to hit me or not?”

The Potions master trembled slightly before holding his breath and backing away. Harry sneered at him as Severus turned around to put a few feet of distance between them.

Dumbledore returned at that very moment and cast a concerned look at Snape. He was still upset but he nodded anyway. It was enough time for Harry to react. Glancing sideways, he noticed his wand lying on Dumbledore’s desk in plain view.

“Accio wand!” Before either wizard could move, Harry cried, _“I quit!”_ and snapped his wand in two over his left knee.

The explosion from the shattered wand threw Snape and Dumbledore into the air several feet back and they were surrounded by a red and gold coloured cloud of smoke. Harry scowled at both of them where they were lying on the floor and tossed his broken wand into the fireplace before barging out Dumbledore’s office.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry stormed out of the castle and headed down to _his_ tree. He slammed his back into it and threw his head back, hitting it numerous times. After obtaining a solid headache, he slid to the ground and cursed under his breath.

“So what do we have here?” Malfoy drawled. “The famous Harry Potter pouting?”

Was the blond stalking him?

“Sod off, Malfoy!”

“My, my. Such language, Mr Potter.”

“ _Fuck_ off!”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Now what could have provoked The Boy-Who-Lived to show such hostility?” he said sarcastically.

Not rising to the bait, Harry got up, dusted himself off and headed towards the forest, not once looking back.

“Ah yes. Now the brave Gryffindor is turning into a coward,” Malfoy taunted.

Harry whipped around and clenched his fists by his sides. “You know _nothing_ about me, Malfoy!” Harry snapped. “ _Or_ what’s going on!”

The furious young wizard spun back around, ignoring Draco Malfoy’s retort.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was well after dark when Harry arrived back to the Gryffindor common room. He pushed through the crowd of his fellow classmates who had obviously been waiting for him. He marched upstairs to the seventh years’ room, slammed the door behind him and began pacing. He wasn’t surprised at all when the door opened and a figure entered.

“Are you mad, boy?” Severus barked.

Harry spun around and cried out, “Get out and leave me the fuck alone!” That word was becoming easier for him to say.

“Do you realise what you have _done_ , Potter?”

_‘Now it’s back to ‘Potter’, is it?’_ Harry thought bitterly. “I did what I should have done years ago!”

“It was preposterous, you imbecile,” Snape bit out, answering his own question.

“Well, I guess the Ministry will just have to find a _new_ saviour, won't they?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Snape spat, folding his arms across his chest. “Running away from your responsibilities?”

“I didn’t ask for all this!” Harry shouted, waving his arms as if gesturing about the world.

“None of us did!”

“You liar! You did!”

Severus immediately shut up. His onyx eyes narrowed and he glared at the equally furious green ones. Harry could sense that Snape wanted to haul off and deck him, but he stood fast. Abruptly, the older wizard turned and headed for the door. He paused, lowering his head.

“Where were you?” Snape asked, his demeanor changing suddenly. His back was still to Harry.

“Why the hell do _you_ care?” Harry spat. “Don’t tell me you're suddenly growing a _conscience_ ,” he mocked.

“I see how it would be hard for you to grasp, but I assure you, I _do_ care about your well-being.”

“Bollocks!” Harry cried.

Severus sighed, looked back at him and hesitated briefly before regaining his composure. “Harry, I know this is not easy for you…”

“Easy? Try impossible!”

“… but you must understand that it is pointless to agitate yourself any further.”

“Like _I_ care,” Harry growled.

“That part is perfectly clear,” Snape instinctively drawled. He held his tongue before speaking again. “In any case, it was a _foolish_ thing to do.”

“Which thing?” Harry asked heatedly. “Breaking my wand, running off, or swearing?”

Snape sighed. “All of the above.”

“What’s it to _you_?”

Severus began softly, “As your future spouse…”

Harry had heard enough. “Get out! Get out! GET! OUT!”

Severus sighed again, this time audibly. “Very well. We will talk later.” 

“Talk to yourself, you bastard!”

Snape got as far as reaching for the doorknob.

“What more could you _possibly_ have to say to me? How thrilled you’ll be when I become Harry _Snape_ or the fact that you’ll be _raping_ my arse for the next hundred years?” Harry spouted.

A renewed sense of anger rose in Severus and slowly he turned with an eyebrow raised. He approached Harry just as if he was about to take house points away. In the past, Harry would secretly be terrified by this intimidation, but now he merely raised his chin and stood his ground.

“As usual, _Mister_ Potter, you have once again _assumed_ my intentions.”

Harry clenched his jaw and crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

“In the first place, _I_ will be taking _your_ name.”

Severus smirked as the young wizard’s eyebrows shot up.

“In the second place, I never said it would be _you_ that would be – how did you once elegantly put it? Oh yes. _Buggered_ up the arse.”

Harry’s mouth flew open. “What?” he said, half-laughing.

Snape curled his mouth into a satisfied grin.

The Gryffindor choked in amusement. “You mean to tell me that you expect _me_ to – to – shag _you_?”

The Potions master suddenly narrowed his eyes at him, _not_ at all amused.

“Ha! Wait till everyone finds out that Professor Snape likes to…”

“You will not tell _anyone_ what happens in the privacy of our quarters!” Severus barked. “Is that clear?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to smirk.

“Is that clear?” Snape repeated, demanding an answer.

Harry’s head went up like he was nodding but it was only because he scoffed. Severus took that as a yes. With a swish of his robes, Snape stormed away, leaving a very surprised and a _very_ elated Gryffindor.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The next four days passed by infinitely slowly for Harry. It was only because he was plagued by everyone trying to convey their concern for his recent behaviour. They have never before seen Harry so livid and yet so silent. Hermione and Ron tried several times to corner him to explain themselves, but Harry was still in a state of fury aimed at everyone – especially them. Granted, the information regarding Snape's sexual preferences lightened his spirits, but it was short lived. But Harry _was_ relieved that he hadn’t seen him since then.

_‘If he thinks that I could ever be able to get excited enough to bugger **him** …’_ his mind kept repeating.

Finally, on Friday, the day before the “wedding”, Ron and Hermione caught him alone. And unaware.

“Please, Harry. Just listen to us a moment,” Hermione pleaded.

Harry glared at her and folded his arms, clearly displaying that he would listen but still wouldn’t believe anything she had to say. His young friend sighed and looked to Ron for help.

“Listen, mate,” he began, not missing the way Harry flinched at the term ‘mate’. He continued anyway. “You have to understand. We don’t care for that greasy bastard anymore than you do, but he’ll protect you.” Harry flinched again. “We just don’t want to see you get hurt and we didn’t want you sent off to Azkaban.”

_‘Sent off?’_ Harry wondered, but quickly dismissed it as Ron’s way of not coming out and showing his disapproval of Harry’s suicidal decision.

“Professor Snape assured us that he won't hurt you,” Hermione whispered.

“Hurt?” Harry said, his voice raising. “And I suppose the _wedding night_ won't _hurt_ , will it?” he said bitterly.

Hermione blushed and looked away.

“Harry,” Ron said quietly. “I’m sorry that _that_ has to happen. We both are. But he told us…”

“And you _believe_ him?” he snapped. “And since when have the three of you been on such friendly terms?”

“He knows that we are your friends, Harry,” Hermione explained. “And he respects that. He wants us to remain friends with you and to – help you in everyway possible.”

“That’s right, Harry,” Ron concurred. “When school’s not in session, we are allowed to - to talk to him as an equal.”

“An _equal_?” Harry shouted. “Is that what he said?”

Ron bit his lower lip and nodded, though he was just as disgusted at that thought as Harry was.

“Bastard,” Harry muttered. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide. “Why didn’t you defend me?” he asked Hermione accusingly.

The young witch’s face paled. “Harry, I-I …” she started, stuttering. “This was the only way,” Hermione whispered.

_‘What?’_ Harry’s mind screamed. _‘This is supposed to be the smartest witch of her generation and this is the only way?’_

Harry’s head shot over to Ron. “And what about _you_ , Ron?”

The redhead opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak. His blue eyes flashed over to Hermione. She was looking away embarrassed. He looked away as well, and whispered just as softly as she did. “There was nothing anyone could do.”

Harry shuddered with rage. “Well, thank you both so much for all your _help_ ,” he snapped.

His two friends flinched. Harry stormed away and they both began to cry.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_**You are cordially invited to the wedding of Severus Snape and Harry James Potter** _

Ron began fidgeting and shifted nervously, waiting for Harry to say something. Anything. He heard him grumble and growl from behind the screen, but no words were actually formed. He really didn’t want to be here - even though it was his best friend that was getting married today. Dumbledore finally convinced Harry that he _had_ to have a best man. And Ron was the closest thing to it.

Ron grimaced at that thought. _‘The closet thing to it,’_ Harry had said. He knew that he betrayed Harry but the damage was already done. But, Ron was a stubborn redhead…not to mention a Gryffindor. So he vowed that he’d do whatever it took to set things right with Harry.

Hermione, however, was in despair from the guilt that wracked her senseless. She cursed herself for being so weak and not trying hard enough to find another solution. Ever since she had found out about the ‘marriage’, she had cracked open every book in the library – even the restricted section – to find a loophole. A flaw. Anything. But in the end, there was nothing. This was the only way. She had lost sleep last night from crying. Until she ran out of tears.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry?” Ron called out timidly.

Silence. Obviously Harry was still mad. He hadn’t spoken one word to Ron all morning. But he still waited patiently while Harry was behind a screen getting a ‘ritual’ pre-wedding bath from the school’s house-elves. Harry had hissed, yelped, muttered and even cursed – but Ron – thank goodness - couldn’t make them out. He wasn’t even sure he would’ve recognised any of them.

“Why the _fuck_ do I have to be _naked_ under this fucking dress?” Harry finally said, his words echoing in the small room.

Ron flinched and secretly wanted the silence back. “Harry?” he said quietly.

“What?” Harry yelled, pulling back the screen.

His (ex?) friend bowed his head and focused on the patterns of the rug. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

The dark-haired wizard scowled at him then hissed as Professor Dumbledore walked in.

“It’s time, Harry.”

_“Fuck,”_ he muttered under his breath.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It felt like the entire Wizarding World was crammed into the Great Hall. Harry’s narrowed eyes scanned over everybody, just waiting for someone to look at him wrong. He refused to meet the pair of onyx ones that was standing a foot away and he could feel those eyes burning a hole into the side of his head.

Dumbledore was right. Everyone sitting before Harry was acting like this was a celebrated holiday and Harry and _he_ was to be the gift. Flashes of lights went off like fast lightning bolts and Harry glared at the photographers.

“You could at least attempt to smile.”

“Fuck off, Snape,” he hissed.

He heard an exasperated sigh. “Sooner or later you will have to address me as Severus,” he calmly pointed out.

A snort was Harry’s only response.

The quiet chattering in the Great Hall was hushed as Professor Albus Dumbledore stood behind the podium. Harry turned his attention to the older wizard.

Albus began.

_“Good marriages require patience, kindness, humility, sacrifice, empathy, love, understanding, forgiveness, and hard work.”_

Harry tried not to scream.

_“We have come together here in the joining together of Severus Snape and Harry James Potter.”_

Harry flinched.

_“Much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls comes their way, and with their union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these two, who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of their combined powers and it’s strengths and the anticipation of the love that comes with time.”_

Harry could now feel the bile rising in his throat.

_“Now I bid you look into each other’s eyes.”_

Harry snapped his head to face the Potions master and glared as he clenched his teeth. Severus, however, was looking back with an unreadable expression.

_“The ancients were reminded by the circle of eternity as to have neither beginning nor end and it is so fashioned into this circlet of precious metal of gold.”_

Dumbledore held out both hands, a ring in each one. Snape took it without hesitation. Harry paused. A few seconds of intense silence was felt before he snatched it up. Albus continued.

_“In hopes that they keep the vows made on this day, they shall teach each other who they are, what they yet shall be, because they are more than themselves and more than each other; they are all of us, and together we share joyously the fruits of life.”_

Harry almost burst out laughing at the stupidity of it all. Severus held out his left hand and his eyes darted to emerald eyes then down to the ring Harry was holding. A panic ran through the young wizard. _This was it._ The time was now. The time he dreaded. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_‘I can't,’_ Harry thought. _‘I just can't.’_

“Harry,” Albus warned.

The dark-haired boy flashed hatred at his one-time mentor. With a grunt, Harry roughly slid the ring on Severus’s finger. Severus hissed. Harry arched an eyebrow. He didn’t slip it on _that_ hard. Not enough to warrant a hiss anyway. This suddenly made Harry very nervous. He held out his shaking hand. His heart raced faster and faster as the ring of doom came nearer and nearer to his ring finger. The ring slid on with ease.

Harry screamed and his knees buckled and he landed on one of them, doubled over in pain. Extreme pain. Dumbledore quickly waved his wand and the room fell silent. And eerily still. Severus knelt down in front of Harry.

“Harry! Relax! It will pass in a minute!”

Harry screamed louder. He pulled desperately at the ring.

“Get it off! Get it off!” he howled.

“I can't, Harry. Try to relax. _Relax_ , damnit!”

The gold had begun to dig into Harry’s flesh and into his veins.

“Get it off!” he cried, still tugging at it.

“Stop it, boy! You’re just causing more damage!”

Harry hunched over, holding his throbbing hand close to his chest. He stopped pulling, but the pain intensified. He raised his head and tears were streaming down his face.

“What… what did you do to me?” he sobbed.

Severus actually looked relieved that this part was over. “I did nothing,” he whispered to Harry. “This is a bonding ring. It not only bonds us together, but it bonds into our body.”

Harry gazed at him with horrified eyes. “You could have warned me, you bastard.”

Snape pursed his lips together and looked away, up to Albus who was watching with regard.

Harry bent his head down and touched his new ring. “You could have warned me,” he whispered.

The older wizard tried to help Harry stand, but he jerked his arm away and hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

After all three had taken their place again, Dumbledore waved his wand and the room was once again filled with anticipation. Obviously they were oblivious as to what just happened. Albus cleared his throat to regain everybody’s attention.

_“Now both of you please state your vows to one another.”_

Harry opened his eyes and stared at Dumbledore, but he ignored him. _‘Vows?’_

_“These vows will be for the two of them alone.”_ And he cast another spell on everyone but this one was only a Silencing Spell.

Severus took Harry’s reluctant hand and kept his eyes focused on Harry’s.

“I, Severus Snape, promise you, Harry James Potter, to supply all of your needs whether it be support, constant friendship or desires. I promise to respect your personality, habits and preferences and shall not seek to change you in any way. I shall respect you, your beliefs, and your friends as I respect myself. I shall show interest in you and your interests. I value your voice or opinion and will ask for your counsel and shall hear your reproofs without retribution. Lastly, I promise to desire you and wish to be desired by you and be possessed by you, without guilt or shame.”

Sensing that his vow was over, Harry glared at his new ‘spouse’ and began, not having a clue as to what he was going to say.

“I, Harry James Potter, promise you, Severus Snape, to never forget this day or what you’ve taken away from me. Therefore, I shall now take away from you. From this day forward I am no longer the Harry Potter that you or anyone else knows, for he no longer exists. In his place, you have created a new Harry Potter, which stands before you now.

I hate you. I have always hated you and now my hatred for you will only continue to grow and will not end until one of us dies. You have done nothing but lie to me since the first day I met you and you still continue to lie. I will never trust you or the promises you speak of. I offer you nothing except my name and my body, which I do not willingly give. You speak of your desires, but know this: I will never desire you. Ever. Because of this contract, you are allowed to take your pleasure by using me as a vessel, but as long as we are married, there is nothing you will be able to do or say to me that will arouse me, entice me, please me or satisfy me, for those desires within me no longer exist.”

Harry arched an eyebrow, watching any sign of annoyance coming from Severus. But there was only a blank expression showing. Dumbledore paused – maybe from shock – but quickly got over it and released the spell.

_“Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be sanctuary to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there is no isolation for you. Now there is no more loneliness. Now you are two, but there is only one life in front of you._

_Go now and enter into the days of your togetherness.”_

Thank goodness they didn’t have to kiss.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	9. Chapter Nine

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Nine**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus Dumbledore averted his eyes from the guests sitting before him to look at two men that were still facing each other. He gave both of them a nod, indicating it was time to turn sideways so the majority of the Wizarding World in attendance could stare at the newly married couple. Harry flinched inwardly when he thought of that word. Well, actually those _two_ words. Married. Couple. He really didn’t want to be there just then. Of course, he really should be used to all this. Gawked at, talked about, and _gossiped_ about. But the worst: being praised and congratulated for something he had no control over.

“I really think that was uncalled for,” Snape - he’ll _always_ be Snape to Harry - said through the side of his mouth, referring to Harry’s vows.

Well,” Harry began, not caring that his voice matched his disgusted expression. “Perhaps in the future, you should tell me exactly what I can and _can’t_ say.”

Harry could almost make out a frustrated sigh coming out of his new spouse.

“The last thing I would ever do is tell my husband what to do or what to say,” he said calmly.

Harry couldn’t resist turning his face to glare at his _husband_. “Why not,” Harry hissed. “You’ve told me what do to up till now!”

Glancing sideways, Severus said, “That is irrelevant now because we are married, changing everything in our relationship.”

Ignoring that last word, “Rubbish,” the young wizard spat through his teeth. _“Nothing will change,”_ Harry mocked out loud.

This time Harry did hear him sigh. “Could we please talk about this later?”

The Gryffindor clenched his jaw. “An order? So soon?”

Thankfully for Severus, the conversation ended then, because all the guest were standing as their chairs morphed into a more comfortable one and the room enlarged to accommodate the decorated wedding tables. Albus spread his arms out from his sides and they began to file into queues to get their chance to offer their congratulations to the two grooms. Harry groaned.

“I’m asking you nicely if you could at _least_ be respectable,” Snape said in a low, quiet voice.

“Fine,” Harry ground out.

One by one, the delighted guests stopped in front of each of them, wishing them the very best. None of them seemed concerned with Harry’s emotionless face. They just merely shook his hand and some even had the audacity to try and get a response out of him. But being already furious and a true stubborn Gryffindor at heart, Harry just stared at them, barely acknowledging them _or_ their words. A few even tried to hug him, so he stood fast and allowed himself to be hugged but didn’t return the gesture. It wasn’t until his fellow classmates appeared that Harry actually made eye contact. He still didn’t say anything but rather nodded indifferently to their greetings.

Harry for the most part, ignored the monotone voice next to him until he heard a familiar name.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. I’m sure Harry will appreciate that.”

Immediately, Harry’s defenses went up. He tightly gripped the hand that was in his, and only noticed that he was causing pain to the owner when Dean Thomas attempted to jerk his hand away. Harry mumbled his apology and the dark-haired boy made a fast retreat.

Hermione Granger carefully stepped in front of Harry like he was an angry father. She was wringing her hands together nervously and focusing on the ground below. Not lifting her head, she raised her brown eyes slowly. It was obvious that she hadn’t slept well last night – if she had slept at all, that is.

“Hello, Harry,” she whispered, but she knew he wouldn’t respond. She looked down again and a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks. Hermione chewed the corner of her lower lip for a moment then quietly sobbed, “I really did try, Harry. I just… I couldn’t...”

Hermione’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and then she quickly ran away. For the first time that day, Harry actually felt another emotion besides anger. _Regret_. He watched her as she disappeared into the crowd and then looked away from everyone. But the feeling that someone was glaring at the back of his head caused him to spin back around. He gave Snape a look that said, _“What?”_ Severus turned his attention to the redhead that was in front of him.

“Thank you, Mr Weasley,” the older wizard replied, shaking his hand.

Harry saw Ron nod at Snape, but his blue eyes were locked on Harry’s. As careful as Hermione was, Ron stood in front of Harry, but he wasn’t looking down, nor was he upset. Instead, Harry’s best friend held his chin high and Harry took that as if he was going to get a good tongue-lashing. But he was wrong.

“Harry,” Ron acknowledged. “I’m sorry.” Harry furrowed his brows. “I should have been there for you and I wasn’t,” he said simply.

If it hadn’t been for the emotional outburst from Hermione, Harry might not have been willing to at least _listen_ to Ron’s confession. One thing he knew for sure; Harry could tell this caught Snape's attention - as could Ron. Harry nodded to him to continue, keeping a watchful and curious eye on his ‘spouse’.

“We should’ve told you… _I_ should’ve told you,” Ron corrected himself, then continued, “what we were doing.” Suddenly, Ron looked away and sighed. “We couldn’t find anything.” He snapped his head back at Harry. “And in the end, we just didn’t want to lose _you_ ,” he emphasised, ignoring the small sneer from the Potions master. “But we tried.” He leaned in close to Harry and whispered, “We’re _still_ trying.”

Ron gave a Harry a quick wink and then sighed in relief, making it clear that he was glad he’d finally told his friend. Harry’s expression softened and before he could say anything, Ron gave Harry a half-smile and Severus a half-smirk. He turned away from the two of them, walking a little taller than he had before.

Severus cleared his throat. “You have loyal friends, Harry.”

Harry sensed a slight irritating tone in his voice and Harry smiled. “So it seems.”

Harry survived the rest of afternoon of handshakes and well-wishers by berating himself inwardly for ever doubting his friends. He knew he could _never_ erase that image of the lost and defeated face of Hermione Granger from his mind.

A snobbish drawl interrupted his thoughts.

“Congratulations, _Potter_ ,” said Draco Malfoy.

Out of everyone Harry knew - including Voldemort - only Malfoy could inflame so much hatred within himself.

“As I understand it,” Malfoy began again. “In some countries it’s customary to kiss the _bride_ ,” he smirked.

Before Harry could process the meaning of his words, the blond tilted his head and pulled the Gryffindor in for a rough kiss. The force of it caused both boys to open their mouths, but no tongues were exchanged. Just as fast as Malfoy grabbed him, he was quicker to stop and he pushed Harry away. Harry stared in shock at the young Slytherin, unable to respond. Malfoy on the other hand, smirked again then ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he were tasting the remains of their kiss. The blond glanced at Harry’s new spouse and curled his mouth. It almost appeared if he was silently saying, “I kissed him first.” The older wizard narrowed his eyes and sneered at his arrogant student.

“ _Professor_ ,” said Malfoy with a satisfied voice.

Still frozen in time, Harry watched his rival walk away.

“ _That_ was definitely uncalled for,” Severus scowled.

His husband grinned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soon Harry and Snape were sitting at the end of the Great Hall facing the filled room. Because of Harry’s friend’s dedication to help him against Snape, and even _Draco Malfoy’s_ behaviour, his anger returned twice as strong towards his new husband _and_ the inconsiderate crowd of witches and wizards. On the table in front of him, sat a large display of food and what looked to be wine. A tall glass of it was next to his plate. Everyone suddenly turned to face Albus Dumbledore who was standing with a similar glass in his upraised hand.

_‘Oh Merlin,’_ Harry thought. _‘A toast.’_

Everyone mimicked Dumbledore and turned their focus to the newly wedded couple. Harry didn’t move.

“It’s time for the traditional toast, Harry,” Severus softly informed him.

The young wizard still didn’t move.

“Harry,” he urged quietly.

“I don’t drink,” Harry spat out the side of his mouth.

“It will help you to relax,” Snape explained to him.

“I don’t need _relaxing_ ,” said Harry bitterly.

Severus sighed. “The day will soon be over.” Harry cringed at the image of the wedding night. “Can we please get through this as smoothly as possible?”

Harry gritted his teeth together and lifted the glass so fast that wine spilled over the top. Immediately, the guests looked back at the eldest wizard.

“To Harry and Severus Potter,” he started. The young wizard’s body trembled in rage, hearing _that_ name next to _his_. “The newest and most powerful couple.”

Harry gripped the glass tightly and waited till the “Hears, hears” subside and then slammed his flûte back down while everyone took a large gulp of the liquor. The stem shattered but no one seemed to notice save Severus. He knew he was watching him again but he ignored him and focused his eyes on the distant wall. Harry heard a quiet voice next to him, but his ears and his eyes was somewhere else.

“Harry,” his spouse repeated.

_“What?”_ he hissed, his head snapping around.

“They’re waiting for us,” Snape said softly.

Harry gazed at the crowd seated and sure enough, all the curious eyes were watching the two of them.

“For what?” the Gryffindor asked in annoyance.

“To begin the dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said flatly.

“I’m sure you’re not, but they are.”

“Let them starve,” Harry sneered.

“Harry…” The young groom narrowed his eyes at him. “It’s tradition that…”

“Fine!”

Harry took a large portion off his plate and stuffed it in his mouth. Immediately, everyone started eating and began talking amongst themselves, filling the room with happy chatter. Harry picked up his newly replaced wine glass and spit out the half-chewed food.

“I was told that this was your favourite dish,” Severus whispered.

“Well, they were wrong, weren’t they?”

“Perhaps you’d like something else?” Snape offered and Dobby appeared, ready to get Harry anything.

“Stop it, all right?” he said coldly.

The Potions master raised a curious eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Harry looked at him blankly. “Stop trying to be nice to me. It doesn’t suit you,” said Harry irritably.

Severus clenched his teeth.

“That’s more like it … _Snape_.”

The older wizard took a deep and jagged breath of air. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With the meal finally over with, everyone looked towards the two men.

“What now?” Harry groaned.

Severus stood and held out his hand. “Time for the traditional newlywed dance,” he said, barely moving his lips.

_“What?”_ Harry cried.

“Would you _please_ attempt a little restraint?” he growled.

“I’m not dancing with you, you bastard.”

Severus’s hand started to shake. _“Potter,”_ he warned.

Harry smirked. “Glad to see you’ve returned to normal.” He paused. _“Professor_.”

Snape glared at him, then closed his eyes briefly. When he re-opened his eyes, his features surprisingly softened.

“ _Please_ will you accompany me in a dance?”

Harry wondered how many times he could tell him to fuck off.

“Please,” he repeated impatiently.

“This had better be the only time I do this,” said Harry, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“Believe me, I’m not looking forward to this any more than you are.”

“Well, then,” Harry smirked. “Shall we?”

The Gryffindor snatched his hand, squeezing it tightly. Severus frowned at him whilst he assisted in helping his groom to stand. Harry resisted pulling away, instead allowing this man to escort him to the cleared dance floor.

“If you so much as touch me…” Harry said in a firm voice.

It was Severus’s turn to smirk. They began to move around the floor and a soft round of clapping followed. Soon the dance floor was filled with other couples, glancing every now and then at Mr and Mr Potter. The two wizards gripped their hands tighter, both annoyed at the constant staring.

“Why are we wearing a fucking dress?” Harry finally asked.

“Would you please lower your voice?” whispered Snape.

“Why are we wearing a fucking dress?” the young wizard repeated in a _deeper_ voice.

Onyx eyes darkened. “They are not _dresses_ , boy. They are traditional wedding gowns,” he hissed.

Harry snorted. “Look like dresses to me.”

The slow music stopped and Harry instantly pulled away. The other wizards and witches parted on the dance floor, making a clear path back to the front of the hall. Severus gestured with his hand for Harry to go first. He cast Snape a cold glare and stalked ahead. When both of them reached the dais, they turned around, facing the guests once again.

“Opening the gifts,” the older wizard answered Harry’s unasked question.

“Would it kill you to inform me of what’s to be expected? Or do you _enjoy_ keeping me in the dark about everything?” Harry retorted.

“My apologises,” replied Severus indifferently.

Again Harry glared at him. “So much for the pleasantries.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

One by one, each gift was opened, both men taking turns. There was an assortment of different items ranging from phials to subscriptions to “Quidditch Monthly”. Only a few presents remained and Harry was handed a long, thin rectangular box.

“This one’s for you, Harry,” Severus whispered, handing it to him.

Harry stared at the gift then searched the crowd for his one time mentor. The young wizard’s hands balled up into fists.

“Harry?”

But the boy didn’t remove his slitted eyes from Dumbledore.

“Harry,” Snape repeated unwaveringly.

Suddenly, the furious Gryffindor grabbed the box and tossed it over to the pile of opened gifts. Severus Accio’d the box back and held it out to Harry again.

“It is forbidden not to open a gift,” his groom warned him dangerously.

Harry turned and glared at him and then snatched it out of his hand. He quickly unwrapped it and removed the lid. He already knew what it was. His wand. His restored wand. The wand that couldn’t be destroyed. His eyes burned a hole into it and attempted to throw it back onto the table. But the box wouldn’t leave his hand.

“It must be regenerated,” Severus explained.

Harry’s hands began to shake. “I can't do it,” he whispered.

His husband sighed in hearing Harry finally sounding like his old self.

“Harry, you can't resist it. It has to be united with its owner,” said Severus softly.

A single tear fell down his face as he slowly shook his head. “I can't.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. As if Harry was struck with an Imperius Curse, he touched the wand and curled his fingers around it. A red and gold coloured light enveloped the Great Hall and everyone gasped in astonishment. When the light subsided, Harry was on his knees, crying. Severus knelt down and gingerly touched his shoulder.

“Shh. It’s all right, Harry.”

The young wizard jumped to his feet, wand at the ready and aimed at Snape's heart. The guests gasped. Severus stood tall with his head held high.

“You cannot kill me, Harry,” he said flatly. “You are unable to.”

Harry’s body began shaking and it wasn’t from anger. The wand was fighting Harry, but he wouldn’t give in.

“Harry, stop it,” Severus said calmly. “You’re only going to make yourself sick.”

The young wizard’s chest tightened and his ribs began to hurt. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn’t keep his arm up any longer. He collapsed to the ground and fainted.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry. Harry?” a quiet voice whispered.

The young Gryffindor fluttered his eyes open and blinked several times before focusing in on Severus Potter.

“I hate you.”

Severus nodded. “I know,” he breathed, relieved that his husband was all right.

“Can you stand?” he said, gingerly taking his arm to help him up.

“Let go of me,” Harry croaked, but he didn’t have the strength to pull away.

Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Unconsciously, he leaned into Severus.

“Come on,” the older man softly urged.

Harry was led over to the nearby urinal. He now realised that he was in the men’s lavatory. Snape stood behind him and reached in front of Harry’s gown. The young wizard was now fully awake.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed, pulling away.

“You need to go to the bathroom. And so do I,” he pointed out.

“I can do it myself!”

Severus sighed. “No you can't, Harry. And neither can I.”

“What? Of course I can,” his voice rising higher.

“The gown will only open by the spouse’s hand.”

Harry frantically yanked at the three clasps that held the front of it closed. They wouldn’t budge. He glared at Severus and ran the short distance, intending to knock him down. In a bat of an eye, Harry found himself at Snape's feet.

Severus shook his head benevolently. “You can't hurt me, Harry. Just like I can't hurt you.”

Harry curled into a ball. “I hate you.”

“You’ve already said that. Now, can we attend to our business?” asked Severus, slightly annoyed.

His young groom shook his head.

“The longer we hold off, the more damage we will do to ourselves.”

“Is that a traditional custom?” Harry sneered, looking up.

“No, it's common knowledge. Now come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Harry closed his eyes and once again he was lifted to his feet and led in front of the urinal. His body started to shake and his breathing accelerated.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Severus’s arms encircled Harry and carefully unlatched the lowest buckle. 

_“No,”_ his young husband whimpered.

Harry felt his gown part and cold hands touched his genitals. He turned his head away and continued to tremble.

“Please. _Please stop_.”

“Shh. It’ll be over soon,” Severus whispered.

Harry’s hands gripped Snape’s arms and tried to move them, still unable to open his eyes or turn his head to watch. His limp cock was raised and his foreskin was pulled back. Harry’s knees started to give out.

“S-stop,” he begged.

“Come on, Harry. You’re only hurting yourself.”

“I c-can't,” whispered Harry.

“Yes, you can.”

He pushed at Severus’s arms again.

“Stop fighting it.”

Tears began to roll down his cheeks. Harry shuddered and his bladder began to cramp. More tears fell and he could feel himself losing control of his bodily functions. Finally, urine began to flow slowly until a steady stream was felt. Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

“Shh. That’s it. Just relax.”

Harry couldn’t stop shaking. Severus hugged him tighter. Finally, after minutes of anguish, the last few drops left his body and his gown was quickly closed. Harry covered his eyes in embarrassment and slid down Snape's legs.

_“Oh God. Oh God.”_

It was the most humiliating experience Harry had ever known. But the worst was yet to come. It was Severus’s turn.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	10. Chapter Ten

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Ten**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry was still sitting at Severus’s feet, his hands covering his face.

“How could you?” he whispered.

“Well, it was obvious that you were unable to.”

Harry’s eyes widened and looked up at him. “Are you saying that I could’ve done that _myself_?”

“Given the state you were in, I hardly see how you could have,” he replied with an almost twisted smile.

The young wizard’s eyes narrowed and jumped to his feet. Without even a second thought, he backhanded Severus across his face.

“You bastard!”

Snape rubbed his cheek and sneered at him. Then it occurred to Harry what he just did.

“I hit you,” he said unbelievingly. Then he shouted, “You’re a liar! You said I couldn’t hit you!”

His new husband glared at him. “I said we couldn’t hurt each other. I hardly consider a _slap_ damaging.”

Harry’s lip turned into an evil grin. “Then I’d be prepared for many _more_ in the future if I was you.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “The same could be said to you,” he said smugly. “Now if you don’t mind,” he said, motioning to the urinal.

“Fine,” Harry hissed. “Just don’t expect the same type of _help_.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” said Severus flatly. Harry reached down to undo the lowest clasp on his gown. “There will be plenty of time tonight.”

The young wizard jerked his hands away and took a step back, scowling at him. Severus continued to smirk. The older man turned to the urinal then closed his eyes sighing.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” he said softly.

“Why do you keep _doing_ that?” Harry suddenly spat.

Severus glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know what you are referring to.”

“This,” said Harry pointing to himself and back at Snape. “First you snap at me – like you normally do – then suddenly you’re... nice. _Too_ nice.”

His husband turned his attention back to what he was doing. He remained silent.

“Well?” Harry asked impatiently, crossing his arms.

Severus sighed and shook it once before turning to face him. “Would it be too much trouble for you to fasten the clasp?”

Harry roughly redid the latch on Severus’s gown, not moving his slitted eyes that were piercing into his husband’s.

Snape sighed. “I am merely following the marriage contract,” he said simply. 

“Well, I hate it, so you can just _stop_ it,”

“I’m afraid I cannot.”

Harry scoffed. “And I suppose I have to do the _same_.”

“I never said you had to and I don’t _expect_ you to.”

The young wizard furrowed his brows. “What does _that_ mean? Doesn’t it apply to me, as well?” he asked, suddenly earnest.

Severus paused for a second, then said, “If we are done, I will show you to our quarters.”

Before Harry could ask why he had just avoided answering his question, Severus left the bathroom quickly. Harry quickly caught up to him, following a few feet behind. He was about to repeat his question, but Harry’s thoughts replayed the last thing Severus had said. ‘Our’ quarters. He swallowed hard and willed his body - and his face - not to show any type of fear.

Severus stopped in front of a door that wasn’t far from the Potion classroom. He glanced sideways at his new husband.

“The password is ‘conciliate’ and it is voice coded.” It was clear that Harry didn’t understand by the look of his confused expression, so Snape sighed and continued. “It needs to be activated, Harry.”

“ _Conciliate_ ,” the young man hissed, more to Severus than to the door.

The door unlocked and Severus opened it, stepping aside to let Harry go in first. Harry pushed past him and stopped just a few feet inside, staring straight ahead. And there it was. The door leading to his inevitable fate. The _bedroom_. As he stood there frozen to the spot, Severus walked around him and started his introduction.

“As you can see,” he began, pointing over to the bookshelf on the left wall. “There are numerous books here available to you that will help you in your studies. As well as some entertainment ones,” he said as an afterthought.

Harry remained silent, his eyes never once leaving the dreaded door.

A short sigh left Severus’s lips as he went on. “Over here,” he said, walking over to it. “Is an area I set up for you to study or whatever you wish to do.”

A beautiful cherry wood desk with a matching chair faced the room. The corner area was a couple feet higher then the rest of the room with three steps leading up to it. There were several well-known Quidditch team posters adorning the surrounding walls.

“If the setup is not to your taste, please feel free to redecorate.” Harry still wouldn’t look. Severus shook his head slightly. “And over here in the other corner is a small bar with an assortment of drinks. I ask that you do not drink before lessons.”

Harry was undaunted.

Snape continued. “And as you can see over here, a table is next to it for our meals if we chose to stay in to eat.” Silence. “Finally, I added an addition here,” he said, indicating to the fireplace. “An area where we can relax.”

It was a large fireplace and two wide chairs faced it at an angle with a long sofa in between them. Severus glanced at the stoic young man before heading over to the bar to fix both of them a drink. He quickly downed one and then poured another for himself. He walked over to his quiet husband and held out the glass.

“I told you I don’t drink,” Harry finally said.

“It will help you to…” but he was cut short by a vicious glare from Harry.

“Well? Are you finished with the pleasantries?” he snarled. “Don’t you want to _consummate_ the marriage?”

Severus looked away. He whispered, “Harry, we don’t have to do that immediately…”

“Yes, we do,” Harry snapped. “It’s in _there_ isn’t it?” he said, pointing to the door.

The older wizard closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes, the bedroom is in there.”

“Fine. Then let’s get this _over_ with.”

“Harry,” he tried again, but his husband was already in the room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As the door opened, the candles flickered on, presenting a soft glow about the room. To Harry’s surprise, it was simply stunning. The walls were a warm coloured maroon with a dark wooden panel halfway down it. The carpet was plush and it was also a deep crimson. To the right was another fireplace with a single sofa that appeared to be soft and extremely comfortable. The bed… Harry tightly closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it. He felt Severus dangerously close to his right and immediately stepped away.

“I won't hurt you, Harry,” he whispered.

Harry’s heartbeat accelerated and began to take short breaths through his nose. He clenched his fists at his side and tightened his jaw.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” he ground out.

Severus looked him sadly, took a step forward and Harry instinctively took a step back.

He slowly advanced again and whispered, “Please relax, Harry.”

But he couldn’t. Maybe this was nothing new to Severus, but Harry was terrified and his body trembled from every movement his husband made. He gasped and closed his eyes when a gentle hand reached for his.

“S-stop,” he pleaded softly, pushing the hand away. Harry scolded himself for sounding so afraid.

Severus took a deep breath. “Harry, it is tradition for the new spouses to … explore each other’s body. As a way of introduction,” he added. “That means we have to undress each other.”

The young wizard snapped his eyes open and stared at him in shock.

“What?” Harry cried out, disbelieving what he heard.

“It might be best if I go first.”

“Of course. You _would_ ,” Harry said bitterly, still trying to remain calm.

Harry flinched slightly when two hands carefully tried to unlatch the top clasp. Instinctively, he swatted the hands away.

“No!” Harry yelled. “Don’t touch me!”

Severus turned around and began to pace. “Stop being so childish! You _knew_ this was going to happen!”

“I don’t care! You're not going to touch me!”

Snape clenched his teeth and advanced on his young husband dangerously. “You _will_ allow me to touch you and you _will_ touch me,” he growled.

“And if I don’t?” Harry bit back. “Will the contract be _broken_?”

“No, you ignorant fool. We have to remain in this room until the ritual is complete,” he hissed.

“Rubbish! You lie!” 

Harry ran to the closed door. He grabbed the knob and tried desperately to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. “LET ME OUT! RIGHT NOW!”

Harry pulled violently at the door again but it still wouldn’t move. He spun around to face Severus. The Potions master stood still with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I said let me out!”

“It won't open, Harry. Not until …it’s over.”

“You bastard!” he cried, storming back over to him. “What else have you been hiding from me?”

Severus closed his eyes and pursed his lips together. He slowly opened them, and said solemnly, “I haven’t been hiding _anything_ from you, Harry. I apologise if it appears that way.”

“You're bloody right it _appears_ that way and you know it!”

“Again, I apologise.”

“Well, it’s not accepted,” Harry snarled, closing his hands into fists.

Severus scoffed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like this to be over with as quickly as you do. We _only_ have to…”

Harry clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes. _“Fuck?”_

Severus held his breath briefly, then continued. “Not the word I was searching for, but yes. And we only have to do it once.”

“How reassuring,” the young wizard said sarcastically.

Harry wondered if they would be given any food if they stayed in there forever.

“Will you co-operate willingly, or do we have to resort to other measures?”

“What?” Harry screamed. “You will not force me to do anything!”

Severus’s expression turned dark at the implication and stormed over to the bedside table. He retrieved two items from the drawer and brought it back to show Harry.

“What are those?” he asked, his voice now panicky.

Snape held each one out as he explained. “This is a potion to help you relax and this is a lotion that basically does the same thing.”

“And I bet it forces me to get excited, doesn’t it?” Harry said, trying hard not to shake, but his body was betraying him.

“That is one of the side effects, yes.”

“No!” yelled the young man, knocking them both out of Severus’s hands. “You said you wouldn’t force me!”

“I would never force my husband to do _anything_ ,” he said defensively. “It’s merely to …”

“What a load of crap! What do you call this?” Harry motioned to Severus’s robe then to his.

“It is an obligation that we both must fulfill,” the Potions master said, now irritated.

“Obligation my arse,” he hissed.

Severus’s face turned red. “Enough already! This is only delaying the inevitable.”

Harry stared at him long and hard, but said nothing further. His husband slowly approached him and unfastened the first clasp. Harry began to shake uncontrollably. Severus immediately dropped his hands to his sides.

“Harry, please take the potion.”

But the young man merely shook his head, glaring at him. Severus sighed and gently parted the top of Harry’s gown. Harry jumped back and screamed at the top of his lungs, shoving Snape away.

“NO! No fucking way! I won't let you do this!”

Harry frantically searched the room and noticed an open door in the corner. It was obviously the bathroom so he ran as fast as he could and slammed the door and locked it.

Severus thrust his fingers through his hair and pulled on it hard, bending over in frustration. He abruptly stood up straight and walked over to the fireplace. He tossed some Floo powder in it.

“Albus!”

Immediately, Dumbledore’s head appeared. Severus began explaining what had happened at record speed and Dumbledore nodded every now and then, listening carefully. When he was finished, the Potions master glanced over to the bathroom door and sighed.

“I don’t know what to do, Albus. I didn’t think it would be this complicated,” he admitted.

“Perhaps there’s only one thing left to do then.”

Severus’s eyes shot wide-open and his jaw fell down. “Surely you don’t mean what I _think_ you mean,” he gasped.

Dumbledore sighed loudly. “I’m afraid that might be the only way, Severus.”

“Albus,” he said in horror. “I haven’t done … _that_ in years. There _must_ be another way.”

“Well, did you suggest the potion or the cream?”

“He refuses.”

“Then that leaves you no other choice.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Severus. But it has to be done.”

Before Severus could argue again, Dumbledore was gone. He closed his eyes, hung his head and slowly shook it. He quickly snapped around, hearing Harry to the left of him. The young wizard was staring at him in shock.

“Well?” the older man hissed. “Did you hear what was said?”

Harry nodded numbly.

“And? Will it come to _that_?”

Harry’s mouth fell open but no words came out. Severus turned to face him and crossed his arms.

“It’s your choice, boy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	11. Chapter Eleven

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Eleven**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry was still staring at his new husband and even though he had heard the last question; his mind repeated the _other_ one.

_“And? Will it come to that?”_

Harry blinked his eyes several times and looked away. So it had now come to this: willingly, or … or … Harry closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to think about that. His husband … Severus… had to ... had to ... No. It just wasn’t possible. His eyes fell back to the tall dark-haired man who was still standing with his arms crossed. Harry opened and closed his mouth several times before finally swallowing to quench his dry throat.

“You,” Harry began, noticing Snape's lips tighten. “It was when you were a Death Eater,” he said firmly, though it was rhetorical.

Severus answered anyway. “Yes.”

“And you… you had to…”

“Yes,” came his quick response.

“Oh.” It was the only thing he could think of to say. Harry glanced over to the fireplace.

“It’s not something that I’m proud of, but it was…” He paused. “Required.”

“And now you’re required _again_ ,” Harry replied bitterly, still not meeting Snape's gaze.

Severus sighed. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

The young wizard snapped his head back and glared. “Oh _really_. Some choice I have,” he scoffed. “Forced to _agree_ to be buggered or just be forced.”

“I will not rape you!”

“You have no other choice, remember?” he hissed.

“Harry,” Severus said softly, taking a small step towards him, and instinctively, Harry took a small step back. He sighed again. “Do you not remember what I told you in your room?” he asked, looking at the ground, now suddenly nervous.

Silence.

“I told you my … preference,” Severus continued. Still no response. Onyx eyes finally looked up to narrowed green ones. “You don’t have to be the one being… buggered.”

Harry furrowed his brows skeptically.

“Do you not see?” he replied in a frustrated voice. “All _you_ have to do is lie there. I will,” he paused. “do the rest.”

Harry continued to scowl. “That’s all?” Severus nodded. “What about this,” he said, pinching the front of his gown.

Snape frowned. “I’m afraid I cannot change that part even if I wanted to.”

“But you don’t, do you?”

“Of course I don’t,” he snapped.

A look of horror crossed over Harry’s face.

“Whatever your preconceived notion about your dreaded Potions master is…” he blurted out but then stopped short. He suddenly huffed, exasperated. “Look, I’m not going to stand here and lie to you.”

“Why stop now?” Harry retorted.

“Shut up!” Severus barked and his white face turned red with anger. “Like it or not, I find you attractive. Is that too much for your young mind to grasp?”

Harry’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

Ignoring his young husband’s surprised _and_ disgusted expression, he went on. “Now. Do you agree or do I have to be forced to do something we _both_ don’t want?”

Harry and his body couldn’t move. This _was_ too much information for him to handle. Snape? Wanted him? He didn’t know if he should feel flattered or just plain revolted. His mind suddenly went completely blank however, as his husband slowly approached. He found his voice at last.

“I,” Harry began, panicking. “I don’t want to be raped.”

“And I don’t want you to be either,” Severus said softly.

Harry nodded his consent and Severus gently took him by the arm and led the shaking young man back to the centre of the room. Harry kept his eyes closed and stopped where he was told, and he knew that they were only a foot apart. If that. Harry felt cold clammy hands touch his neck and heard the man breathing uncertainly, but Harry couldn’t resist hissing at the unwanted touch. Taking another unsteady breath, Snape pushed Harry’s ceremonial robe apart, exposing Harry’s tanned throat. The young wizard’s eyes shot open and watched in terror as his gown slipped down over his shoulders. Harry held his breath and turned his face away, suddenly unable to look at what was happening. His body jumped when a pair of soft lips grazed over his skin. His chest started heaving and his blood suddenly went cold.

“Please,” Harry cried softly, forgetting all about his admission or their ‘agreement’.

He jumped again when two sets of fingers lightly touched his shoulders. Snape gingerly caressed his still-clothed arms, running his hands down and back up again. The young wizard tried to jerk away, but was stopped by a gentle grip and a soothing voice.

“Harry. Try to relax,” Severus whispered. “I swear I won't hurt you.”

But the young husband couldn’t relax; although he thought he _was_ trying. Closing his eyes tighter, he nodded. He heard Severus let out what seemed to be a relieved sigh. Harry flinched when the second clasp was undone. He knew his chest was now exposed and his face turned scarlet.

_Just think of something else. Just think of something else,_ his mind kept repeating, but nothing came to mind. _Nothing._

Harry’s body cringed when he felt those lips back on his body, kissing and licking him as if he was covered in something sweet. His stomach churned at that thought. Was there something on him? Was that part of the ‘ritual’? Having your body covered in some sort of substance? Harry’s eyes opened wide but inwardly shook his head. Of course there wasn’t anything on him and that could only mean one thing now, didn’t it? Severus was tasting… _him_. His body. His skin. He closed his eyes again and began to tremble. This was all too surreal for him.

Harry gasped when fingers touched his stomach and slid underneath the last clasp. Instinctively, he grabbed the pair of wrists attached to them and shook his head frantically, all the while keeping his eyes tightly closed. He couldn’t look. He _wouldn’t_ look. Feeling what was happening was one thing, but actually looking? No. So when he felt the fingers leave his gown Harry sighed loudly, and released his grip on his husband’s. But just as he did, Severus’s hands took hold of _his_ wrists and led them to his side. Just as Snape’s fingers uncurled, Harry’s hands followed them. They both knew he was going to try to stop Severus again.

This time Harry’s arms were placed firmly by his side and pressed into his body. It was clear to Harry that he was being told not to move again. Harry’s head fell backwards and bit his lip. He knew any second now he would be standing naked and exposed to this man. His entire body tensed as the last clasp was released and the gown slid down his body and pooled at his ankles. Harry’s lips parted and started breathing faster and faster and his heart thumped hard in his chest. He sucked in large amounts of air and snapped his head to the side when those hands caressed the front of his legs.

The young Gryffindor couldn’t stop shaking. Any moment his legs were going to give out… he just knew it. Just like he knew if they did, he’d be lying on his back and his legs would be separated and … _No!_ He’d force himself to stand, damnit. He had lived through worse times than this. He didn’t give in then and he won't give in now! And no matter how much this man was going to try and break him, he would fight back with every fiber that he possessed. So he stood up straighter and tried to convince himself that he could do this.

But even though his mind was filled with his new declaration to himself, Harry’s eyes shot open when he sensed a pair of warm lips ghost over his groin. His body tensed automatically, and he berated himself automatically as he heard himself release a pitiful sounding ‘no’. He vaguely caught phrases from Severus after that. Words like ‘relax’, ‘it’s all right’ and ‘I won't hurt you’, but none of them comforted him in his moment of utter humiliation. In fact, it only made matters worse because now a voice was added. And that voice put the image of his hated Professor Snape in his head. His body started to shake from anger, but just as quickly as it washed over him, it was replaced by another feeling. Absolute fear. Harry realised he was going to go mad from all these conflicting emotions.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry’s cock was gently touched and he couldn’t help but cry out. His head flew over to the side, closing his eyes tighter. He knew this was going to happen, but nothing could’ve prepared him for such an intimate contact. Harry found himself opening and closing his fists as his prick was sucked into a hot mouth and a hand tenderly massaged his balls while the other one stroked his trembling leg. He let out another cry and reached out and grabbed Severus’s hair, begging him silently to stop. He wasn’t quite sure if he had pleaded out loud or not because all he _could_ hear was the pounding of his heart. Soon every muscle in Harry’s body ached from his resistance and he felt himself swaying. Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

The terrified Gryffindor was just about to yank the older wizard away, but the mouth that was enclosed around his cock was now gone. He quickly removed his hands from Severus’s hair and covered his face. A small sigh came from below causing Harry to peer through his fingers. There, kneeling in front of him, was Severus who had his head lowered. He almost looked as if he was frustrated but that didn’t matter to Harry at this point. It was over. He timidly glanced down at himself, half expecting his skin to be marred with bite marks or something to that effect. But nothing was there. In fact, it his skin looked completely normal. Harry did notice one thing though. His wet cock was in front of him, hanging limp. He didn’t know if he should be happy or be shocked that his body didn’t respond.

His eyes fell onto the dark haired man again and watched him as he pulled himself to his feet. Harry’s head slightly jerked back when Severus’s hand reached out and cupped his face. His thumb grazed Harry’s cheek and wiped away a fallen tear. The young wizard batted his eyes and it occurred to him that he was crying. He was _crying_? Harry kept his eyes focalised on his husband’s thumb as it was raised to the older wizard’s lips and slid into his mouth. Was Severus savouring it? Harry’s stomach tightened and suddenly felt ill. But then his anger took over.

“Well? Are you done _pawing_ me yet?” he hissed.

Severus’s soft expression turned hard and glared at Harry through his narrowed onyx eyes. He took a small step back and cleared his throat. That meant one thing. It was _Harry’s_ turn. Harry’s blood ran cold again. His eyes pleaded with Snape for a fraction of a second but another rush of anger went through him. He just wanted this over with and he wasn’t going to waste any more time than he had to. Instantly, Harry grabbed the first clasp and forcefully tried to unlatch it, but it wouldn’t open. Harry scoffed and pulled on it again.

“Why won't it open?” he snapped.

“Because you’re trying to force it,” Severus said flatly.

Before thinking about what that meant, Harry spat, “So?”

He heard the older wizard growl in his throat and saw his lips press into a thin line. Severus stared at him and arched an eyebrow.

“Do you not understand what ‘force’ means?”

“Of course I do!” Harry quickly said. Then he smirked, “Don’t _you_?”

Snape took one step to him, closing the small space that separated them. He loomed over Harry but the young husband wasn’t about to be intimidated. His emerald eyes locked with the dark ones until Severus backed away without one word being spoken. He nodded once causing the Gryffindor to scrunch his face in confusion. Obviously Snape was biting his tongue. Now there was only one thing left for Harry to do. Undress his husband.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry took a deep breath, gathered all of his courage, and slowly lifted his hands up to the clasp. This time it opened. Part of him was relieved that it opened this easy and the other part of him was repelled because now there was no turning back. He gingerly parted the top of gown, trying desperately not to touch the skin beneath. He pulled it over Severus’s shoulders then reached for the other clasp. It wouldn’t unlatch. Harry dropped his arms by his sides in defeat but two gentle hands guided them back up and pressed Harry’s hands against the man’s chest.

Harry gasped and looked up at Severus, hoping silently that this _wasn’t_ the next move. But the older wizard had his eyes closed and his lips were parted. Yes, it was indeed what Harry had to do. The young man closed his eyes, as well because he did _not_ want to watch. He tried to remember what Severus had done to him and wondered if he had to do the same. He shuddered at the thought of kissing his skin. His fingers felt along the planes of Severus’s chest and quickly removed them when he heard the older wizard suck in a sharp breath of air. Surely this wasn’t hurting him was it? But the soft expression on the man’s face clearly told Harry that he was _enjoying_ it! His face paled.

Harry touched Severus’s chest again, swallowing his pride and justifying his actions as just part of the requirement that he was _forced_ to do. He made a couple more sweeps before attempting to open the second clasp again. Apparently it was enough. The gown immediately slid down Severus’s arms, revealing that the man in front of him kept a fit and firm body. This was something that Harry didn’t really want to know, but it was too late. Pursing his lips tight, he began running his fingers along the equally toned arms then crossed back over to Snape's front.

Harry wondered just how long he needed to do this. He took a chance and fumbled with the last clasp and shockingly enough, it unlocked. The gown fell to the floor and there stood Severus completely naked. Harry turned his head away and once again his arms dropped to his sides, refusing to continue. The young husband almost jumped out of his skin when two strong hands rested on his shoulders and pressed down firmly until Harry’s legs gave way and he dropped to his knees. His heart seemed to skip a beat and panic filled his body.

“No no no no,” Harry implored, shaking his head.

Harry’s hands immediately thrusted in between his legs and his head bent down, chin pressing deeply into his chest. As the reality set in, a wave of nausea went through him. He jerked violently as a gentle hand loosely took hold of one of Harry’s arms. He twisted his arm free, fell backwards and tried to jump up to scurry away. Instantly, he came crashing back down, landing on the side of his hip. Harry lifted his head up to Snape.

“Stop it!” he screamed. “I can't do this! I won't do it, so let me up now!”

Severus looked down at him and sighed. “I’m not doing this, Harry.”

The young wizard opened his mouth to argue but the look on the man’s face said it all. He _wasn’t_ stopping Harry. It was the stupid ‘ritual’. Harry collapsed on the floor, curling himself into a foetal position. His mind raced in confusion of all the strong and conflicting emotions running through him all at once. Anger. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Panic. But most of all… Defeat. 

“Please,” he said in a tiny voice that even he didn’t recognise as his own. “I can't… I just can't.”

Severus knelt down and lightly stroked his hair. “Harry,” he breathed softly. “I promise it will soon be over.”

Harry raised his head enough to meet his gaze. “Why do you care?” the young husband whispered. “This is what you want. You don’t care what _I_ want,” he said flatly and his head fell to the floor again. 

Snape roughly yanked him to his knees causing Harry to gasp. “How _dare_ you,” he hissed. “You have no idea what _I_ want,” he said sharply.

“Then why don’t you tell me?” Harry snapped, lifting his head higher.

Severus held his breath for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly and spoke in a softer tone. “Please, Harry. Don’t fight this. _Please_.”

The young Gryffindor blinked several times. Snape was pleading? With _him_? The world has gone mad. Harry tried to clear his head and get a firm grip on his emotions just so he would be able to get through all of this as sane as possible.

Harry rested his bum on his heels and placed his hands on his thighs. He sighed softly.

“What more do I have to?” he whispered.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room before Severus answered.

“You must finish exploring.” Harry cringed slightly but nodded. The older wizard continued. “With your hands… and your eyes.”

Harry gulped and nodded again. He pushed himself to a tall kneeling position and turned his body to face his husband. He took a couple of breaths then gingerly touched the front of Snape's thighs. A tremor was felt under Harry’s hands and he knew if he looked up right now, he would see Severus with his eyes closed and his lips parted. Again. In one smooth movement, Harry’s palms ran up to the indentation of Severus’s hips then inward to his stomach. His eyes were focused on his hands alone, but as they came together, he could no longer ignore the large piece of flesh that was now only inches from his face.

Harry turned his face briefly, then willed himself to look. It was only a penis, wasn’t it? He’d seen many in his years at Hogwarts. The shower room, his dorm room…but none of those times were as intimate as this. Harry chuckled to himself that he should’ve taken Seamus up on his ‘offer’ last year. That would’ve given Harry _some_ idea of what to expect. The other Gryffindor boy explained that he wasn’t gay, that he was just curious and wanted to experiment with Harry. Harry refused as politely as he could and told the other boy that he was indeed flattered but he had no interest in men whatsoever. Funny how life works.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry’s head backed up just enough for him to focus properly. His face burned from embarrassment as his eyes rested on the thick erection before him. From his stance, it was huge and panic overrode his senses again at the thought of him having to... having to … Harry quickly shook that image from his mind, but his heart wasn’t listening. It began to beat hard in his chest as each second ticked by. Hands now shaking, Harry removed them from Severus’s stomach and held them out, fingers splayed, ready to take hold of…it. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers, digit by digit around the base. A loud gasp came from above causing Harry to snap open his eyes.

The young husband watched as the toned abs descended inwardly and the muscles tightened. He wondered if he was holding it too tight. He instinctively glanced up to find out. Severus did in fact have his eyes closed, but the expression on his face was not from pain. Harry fought the urge to vomit and quickly looked down. He vaguely remembered what Snape had done to him, so he removed one of his hands and cradled the hanging sac carefully. A shaky breath escaped Severus’s lips and again Harry shut his eyes.

“Please,” Harry whispered. “I can't…I ...can’t… _please_.”

Harry flinched when a pair of hands took hold of his wrists and pulled them away. Harry let out a loud sigh. The strong hands didn’t leave straight away but rather tugged at them, indicating that he was free to stand. Harry rose awkwardly to his feet and turned his head, unable to meet Snape's eyes. The Gryffindor flinched again as those same hands moved to his back, nudging him forward. Harry obeyed.

“Shh. This part is over,” Severus whispered.

Harry’s head was resting in the nook of his neck and nodded slowly. But suddenly, Harry snapped his eyes open. Two words echoed in his mind.

_“This part.”_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	12. Chapter Twelve

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Warning:** \- Again! A strong **STRONG** warning! Nonconsensual sex within. Please heed this warning if this offends you.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twelve**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry stepped back, away from Severus’s embrace and stared. It was the first time that day where he actually looked at his husband for that long. Both were locked in their stance, uncertain of what to say next. Sensing that this would be up to him, Severus gently took hold of Harry’s arm and led him to their large bed. He felt a sharp pull and turned around. The emerald green eyes were completely enlarged and the normally tanned face paled and was shaking rapidly. The older wizard moved closer to Harry, still not releasing his light grip. He gave him a hard but at the same time soft look and nodded once. Harry continued to shake his head, eyes alternating back and forth between the bed and him.

“Harry,” Severus said quietly. “It’s almost over.”

The Gryffindor wizard jerked his arm back to his side. “You keep saying that,” he hissed, anger now renewed.

Severus sighed and glanced away before turning his attention back to Harry.

“I apologise, Harry. I didn’t realise. I suppose I was just trying to reassure you that…”

“Is this all?” Harry snapped, pointing to the bed. “And no more lies. Is this all that is left to do?”

Severus frowned at the accusation of being called a liar, and nodded sharply.

“Is this _all_?” Harry repeated, enunciating each word.

Again, Snape nodded, this time firmly.

“Fine,” the young man growled and stormed over to the bed and crawled up on it. “Do what you have to do and be done with it.”

Harry lied down on his back and his eyes focused on the covering above him. He could see in his peripheral vision Severus approaching, then felt the bed dip on his right from the added weight. Harry flinched when the duvet on the left side upturned and covered his chest, arms and part of his stomach. He knew only the ‘important’ piece of him was exposed. Harry didn’t know which was worse – his entire body naked or just his most private area. He thought the latter.

Severus bent over and retrieved a medium sized jar that had been placed on the bedside table. Even though he knew that Harry could see what he was holding in his hand, it didn’t tear his young husband’s eyes away from the above canopy.

“I swear I won't use it on…”

“Fine,” Harry spat.

“It will only help you to relax…”

“I said _fine_!”

Severus closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Leaning forward on his left hand, he pressed his knee into the bed and slowly swung a leg over Harry’s prone body. Harry instantly tensed up and closed his eyes tightly. He wasn’t about to watch. _Relax, Harry. Just remain calm,_ his mind kept repeating, but he was visibly startled when he felt a cool substance touch his legs. His breath caught in his throat and for the life of him, couldn’t release it.

“Breathe, Harry,” a soothing voice said as a pair of hands rubbed the lotion up and down his legs.

“Shut up,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “Don’t say anything. Just… Do it.”

A loud frustrated sigh came out of Severus lips and inwardly, Harry smiled. That small bit of satisfaction Harry felt was gone however, when those hands moved near his hips. He winced and took in a large gulp of air, tightening his eyes even more. Instead of crossing over his stomach, the hands descended back down his legs then slid back up smoothly.

After making a few more sweeps, Harry could tell that whatever was in the cream was working. The clenching in his muscles subsided and his legs dropped limply on the duvet, but the muscles in his upper half were still taut. Harry’s hands fisted the material below him. He flinched slightly when Severus’s hands reached his stomach. _Relax, Harry,_ his mind cried.

Severus hadn’t lied. He stayed away from Harry’s genitals entirely, focusing instead on the surrounding skin. Within minutes, the young wizard’s stomach muscles relaxed and Harry actually breathed a sigh of relief. Severus, taking that as a sign to further his administrations, carefully lifted Harry’s member and lightly stroked it with the gentlest touch. As expected, Harry gasped and snapped his head back, digging it deep into the pillow.

Harry’s body went into an instant anxiety attack, and his mind started screaming, _Nonononono!_

Severus immediately sensed this and desperately wanted to give Harry words of comfort, but obeyed his young husband’s wishes and said nothing. Instead, he concentrated solely on doing anything and everything to please Harry in the only way he knew how. As they say, actions speak louder than words. It was a long time ago that Severus had partaken in the pleasures of the flesh, but he _definitely_ hadn’t forgotten how. As a matter of fact - if memory served - he was quite proficient in this area. All he needed was a willing participant, which unfortunately, his young husband wasn’t. Severus was mistaken in his arrogant assumption that the young man would yield. Sorely mistaken.

A fact he vowed to rectify.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Thanks to the enchanted lotion that was running throughout his veins, the rest of Harry’s body was able to calm down slightly, but his thoughts and emotions were still struggling from everything that had happened to him and everything that was _now_ happening. Having his eyes closed wasn’t helping, but if he were to open them…Harry shuddered thinking about that. So in an attempt to resist such an impulse, Harry jerked the pillow out from underneath his head and covered his face. In that instant, he took in a sharp breath when he felt himself being pulled into a moist area. A cold sensation ran through him and he silently prayed that his body’s natural instincts would take over. Such a thought terrified him even more. 

His breathing was becoming as laboured as his heart and again Harry prayed that it was because of the slow administrations that he was currently receiving. He tried hard to ignore the fact of _who_ was doing this and focused rather on the memory of someone else. Tears began to well up in Harry’s eyes remembering her - the one that he swore he would never think about again. His arms squeezed the pillow tightly.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry had no idea how much time had passed, but he did know that he should be feeling something by now. _Anything_. With that thought flowing in his mind, he was suddenly taken back when cool air hit his wet flesh.

“Damnit!” Severus shouted as he jumped to his feet. “What the hell is the matter with you? You’re a seventeen year old, for Merlin’s sake!”

Harry threw off the pillow and blanched when he looked down at his body. Sure enough, it was lying silent between his legs. He quickly covered himself up.

“Why are you shouting at _me_?” Harry bit back. “How the fuck should I know?” He glared at the older man who was pacing by this time and sneered, “Maybe you’re doing something wrong.”

Severus stopped abruptly and then turned dangerously around. He crossed the room in two strides and hissed, “Don’t you _ever_ talk about what you don’t know. _Do you understand_?”

Harry’s eyes quickly narrowed and pursed his lips into a thin line. Severus was looming over him and he was clearly waiting for an answer. By the little information that Harry had about his husband, it could be that Severus _did_ have adequate experience with… that. The young wizard glanced away from the piercing dark eyes and blushed.

“Maybe… maybe I wasn’t relaxed enough,” he offered.

“If you were any more relaxed you’d be asleep!”

Severus yanked the white bathrobe off the top of the sofa, which was lying next to an identical one, and flung it on. He tied the cloth belt and stormed over to a table that was by the fireplace. A bottle of wine was conveniently there and Snape poured a goblet full and emptied it down in one gulp before pouring himself another. He walked in front of the sofa and sat down in the middle of it, now completely composed. He stared at the glowing flames, glancing once at the clock that was sitting on top of the mantle. He heard the sounds of fabric rustling and then the pads of bare feet approach.

Harry quickly slid on his robe, tied the belt and moved to the side of the sofa. Severus’s face was frozen and his lips were pressed together, opening only to take a sip of his wine. Harry studied his face trying to determine what could possibly be going on inside his husband’s head since his face betrayed no emotion. For some reason, this aggravated Harry and he crossed his arms.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Severus replied flatly.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. “ _Well_?” he demanded again.

“Well, _what_?” Severus snapped, whipping his head around to glare at him.

Harry’s face hardened. “Well? Now what the fuck is supposed to happen?”

The older wizard sighed, glanced up at the clock again and turned to look at the fire. “Nothing.”

“WHAT?” Harry screamed, clenching his fists by his sides. “What do you mean _nothing_?”

Severus wasn’t affected by Harry’s shouting. In fact he had expected it. “There’s nothing more we can do,” he said softly, glancing back to the clock.

Harry was now in hysterics. “What the fuck does that mean? And why the fuck do you keep looking at the fucking clock?” Severus remained quiet. “Damnit you fucking prick! Answer me!”

Snape abruptly stood and slowly approached him. “What don’t you understand, boy?” he hissed. “It’s too late to do anything else,” he said, pointing to the clock. 

It read 45 minutes to twelve.

Harry began to shake uncontrollably. “You said,” he yelled, motioning wildly to the bed. “That _that_ was all that was left to do! And now there’s _more_? You lying fucking bastard!”

Harry spun around and started storming back and forth in the room. “You haven’t told me anything about anything!” he howled, waving his arms about. “Why do you keep withholding things from me? I have the right to know what the fuck is going on, especially when it concerns me!”

Severus still said nothing. The young husband stormed back over to him and clenched his jaw.

“Now you tell me what the fuck is going on and you tell me _now_!”

“If we do not consummate our marriage by midnight, the bond will weaken… as well as our powers,” Severus growled.

Harry froze immediately. He blinked several times, mouth agape. The blood finally rushed back to his face and he backhanded Severus with all the strength that he possessed. The older wizard stumbled backwards, rubbing his flaming cheek.

“You…You…” Harry was so furious his mind couldn’t even think straight.

He began marching around the room again. He stopped shortly and whirled around.

“I will never forgive you for this,” Harry finally said, his voice dripping with hatred. “ _Never_.”

“Of that I’m sure of,” Snape said flatly. He knew he had ruined everything. Especially his husband’s trust.

35 minutes to midnight.

Harry advanced quickly. “You will make a vow to me here and now that you will _never_ keep anything from me again. Do you understand?” he said pointing at Severus’s chest.

Snape's pale face went cold, but he managed to nod.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Harry screamed, his voice causing a chill to run down Snape's spine.

“Yes,” he answered in a low voice.

“Yes, what?” Harry barked.

“Yes, I understand that I will not keep anything from you.”

“Ever.”

“Ever,” Severus whispered, his face turning crimson with shame.

“Good,” Harry said sarcastically, moving so they were nose-to-nose. “I guess you’re turning into a Death Eater tonight,” he mocked.

Severus Potter stared in horror at his young husband’s retreating back, unable to breathe. Certainly he wasn’t serious, was he? He watched Harry throw his robe across the room and crawled to the centre of the bed. He laid down on his stomach, clutching the pillow tightly with his arms. Harry turned his head away and his body became very stiff.

30 minutes.

Severus swallowed hard, finally unlocked his knees and timidly walked over to his prone spouse. He knew as well as Harry did that this was indeed their only choice.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus hated the fact that it had come to this, but he knew he was the only one to blame. He alone planned this. The Life-Debt. The marriage of convenience. The unbreakable bond. Everything. He also took pride in knowing that no one could interfere. It was perfect and his reasons were absolutely justifiable. But in all his planning, he never once doubted his capability to persuade Harry. To seduce Harry. To pleasure Harry in ways the boy never knew existed.

But everything had backfired. He didn’t know who to curse more. Harry. Or himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus didn’t have any more time to think. Minutes were dwindling away and he had to act fast. Both of their lives depended on this, but he didn’t want to hurt Harry. His whole purpose was to never hurt him, but instead… he couldn’t think of that right now. He’d think of it later and how he could possibly make it up to his young husband. But the chances were slim and he knew it.

He reached for the relaxant and climbed on the bed, settling in between Harry’s legs, which immediately tensed. He quickly rubbed the lotion all over the young Gryffindor’s body. What Severus didn’t tell Harry was that there was a tube of lubrication in the top drawer of the bedside table. He assumed he would be the only one using it. He was wrong. Again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry tried as hard as he could to lie absolutely still and concentrate on his breathing. He knew what was coming. He had managed to obtain some detailed information on the mechanics of anal intercourse. A small piece of parchment was conveniently lying on his bed one day. He suspected it was Hermione. But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

He felt the cool lotion being caressed into his skin, hands roaming all over his body. His muscles relaxed slightly. He drew in a sharp breath when the inside of his legs were nudged, instructing then to open. He buried his face into the pillow he was clinging to and obeyed. He could do this, he told himself. He had to. Worse than being raped was losing all of his powers.

Two thumbs pried his buttocks apart and Harry could already feel the tears forming in his eyes. He instinctively clenched his cheeks together, but the fingers still were able to wedge into the crease. A glob of substance touched Harry’s virgin entrance and a single finger circled the outside. The young wizard yelped at this intimate touch and he lifted his body to his knees. He scrambled forward to get away from this invasion. He was pulled back by his ankles.

“No!” he sobbed. “I changed my mind!” 

He could live without his magic, couldn’t he? His body slid back down and the fingers returned. As a finger pressed at his opening, Harry began pleading, muffled by the pillow. One digit gently entered inside and barely rotated before pushing past his sphincter muscle. Harry arched off the bed but a firm hand pressed into his lower back, urging him down. The strong hand stayed there, holding him in place. Another finger joined the first. Harry jerked his head back and screamed.

“Stop it!”

But his cries were ignored. He began to wail as a third one was added. Harry’s legs squeezed together, against the ones that were blocking his futile attempt to close them. His back was heaving now and he could feel sweat pouring down the sides of his squirming body. Harry started to feel light headed from his accelerated breathing.

“Calm down and slow your breathing,” a low voice whispered.

That was the last thing Harry wanted to hear was that voice, but to his amazement, the words did calm him slightly. He forced his mind to concentrate on the fact that this _had_ to happen. That he had no choice but to accept it.

Harry yelped sharply as he felt his insides being pried open by the three fingers. He just knew he was being ripped into two and blood would be flowing any minute now. The fingers barely pulled out and slid back in without any resistance. His body was ready and he could feel himself turn green with disgust. The hand withdrew and his legs were spread further apart. The time had come.

Harry gripped the pillow so tightly that his clenched fists were starting to hurt and his head drove deeper into the pillow. He started taking deep breaths and tried to convince himself that it was almost over. But then reality hit him instantly as a large blunt object began to probe against him. Harry tried to lift himself off the bed, but a somewhat heavy body covered his whole backside. Two arms interlaced under his and their sweat mingled together.

9 minutes.

The thick erection entered his body excruciatingly slow. Harry heaved in a large gasp of air only to release it with a blood-curdling scream. Pain shot up and down his young body and he instantaneously began to thrash against this savage violation. Never in his entire life had he felt anything more agonising as this. He clawed wildly at the duvet below him, trying desperately to pull away. Throughout all of his failed attempts to flee, he continued to scream. Soon they turned into tearful sobs. It wasn’t until his body finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion that he realised the intrusion had stilled.

Harry’s face was on its side now and he was panting so loud that it pounded in his ears. He thought for a moment that he heard the words “Relax” and “Adjust” but he couldn’t be sure. He did know, however, that the thing inside him was _completely_ inside him. Tears flowed freely now, soaking the pillow underneath him. Harry was finally able to take a deep breath and heard “That’s it” from above. A shudder went through him and began to feel ill at the knowledge that this wasn’t over yet.

4 minutes.

Harry gasped as a slow rhythm began behind him, increasing gradually. He braced himself for the worst, but incredibly the pain had subsided. Perhaps the calming lotion was doing this. That was quickly forgotten though as the slow rhythms turned into thrusts. He pleaded softly, begging this man to stop. His prayers were finally answered because a final thrust plunged in and Harry could actually feel some type of vibration from above and warmness was felt deep inside him.

Harry’s body trembled and then flinched as a pair of lips tenderly kissed his shoulder. A sudden chill covered his back by the cold air hitting his sweaty flesh. It was over. He knew it was over. The weight on his back was gone and his body was starting to shake uncontrollably. He could tell the man rolled off him and was now lying down next to him on his right side. He heard the man whisper something followed by a careful stroke on his arm.

Even though it was meant to be a comforting gesture, Harry jerked away and rolled off the bed, crashing hard on the floor, still holding the drenched pillow. He scrambled to his feet, but his shaking legs gave out and he tumbled the short distance to the ground. He picked himself up again and stumbled several times before reaching the bathroom. He had just made it to the edge of the toilet when the contents of his stomach erupted at full force. He didn’t stop even when there was nothing left to extract and Harry’s sides were beginning to hurt. Like the contents of his stomach, there was nothing left of Harry. 

Severus sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the continuous dry heaving, staring into space. He wondered if he could ever look his young husband in the eye again without vomiting himself. He jumped up, grabbed his robe and ran out of the room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	13. Chapter Thirteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus was cursing under his breath as he gathered the necessary ingredients. The laboratory was smaller than his normal one he usually used, however, he preferred doing his potions here because the items were close at hand and not locked up in separate cupboards. He spent no time in adding together the correct amounts, hoping that by doing so, it would get his mind off his current situation for a short while. But as he stirred each of the three mixtures, he couldn’t help but think of how foolish he was. He should've waited. He should’ve postponed the wedding for another week. He and the boy needed more time alone. _He_ needed more time.

It was not uncommon for two betrothed to have been engaging in premarital sex or other activities; in fact, it was usually assumed that they already were. The revealing of their bodies would definitely have been less awkward and a lot less embarrassing. Yes, Severus should've waited one more week. He could’ve spent that time alone with Harry and used every available minute for the two of them to get _acquainted_. Amongst other things of course. Severus cursed himself again. He was a Slytherin and Slytherins were supposed to be cunning and in control at all times.

“Damnit,” he said under his breath. Once they were properly brewed, he gathered each phial and headed back.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry gasped for breath as his stomach continued to convulse. He took several deep breaths to try and stop it, focusing just on that. He finally managed, but as he did he became fully aware that his mouth was dry and his throat burned from the acid that had come from his empty stomach. He swallowed hard, but he couldn’t produce enough spittle. He needed water. Harry was too weak to stand just yet so he did the only thing he could think of. He flushed the toilet and when it was replaced with clean water, he scooped up handfuls of the precious liquid, quenching his thirst. He leaned back against the cold wall and closed his eyes.

His throat now relieved, Harry became aware of a different kind of agony. His body ached. From his muscles, to his internal organs, to his throbbing head, every inch of him cried out. Harry had never experienced so much pain in his all of his young life. He wondered why Dumbledore allowed this type of abuse that was inflicted on him? Did he even have the slightest idea? Did he not care what happened to his favourite Golden Boy? _Of course he did,_ Harry thought bitterly. They all did. And what about his two best friends? They said they tried, but … it didn’t matter now, did it? He was still here, married to his hated teacher and trapped inside a stupid Life-Debt.

Harry brought his legs into his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them. His body was still shaking no matter how hard he squeezed them. He’d known all along that he was just a pawn, used for the sake of the Wizarding World. And now all that was expected of him was to destroy Voldemort. Harry half-laughed at that thought. Voldemort. Did they honestly think Harry would concede now? They had taken everything away from him and now he was expected to _protect_ them? Didn’t they realise that they might have pushed The Boy-Who-Lived too far and turned him into the Boy-Who-Wants-To-Die? No. They didn’t care. None of them did.

Harry shook his head at that thought, freed his sore legs from his death grip and pushed himself away from the wall. As if going in slow motion, he lowered his body to the floor; one arm clutching the pillow while the other squeezed his side. His stomach muscles still ached from the dry heaving. Through his hazy mind he wondered if this is how it felt after a night of drinking. He remembered on several occasions his dorm mates lying in the exact spot he was in now. He also remembered that when they had finished retching they would crawl to the shower and stayed there sometimes till dawn, drowning themselves. Harry lifted his head and blinked a few times as he tried to focus on the shower stall.

_No,_ he thought. He couldn’t make it. He was in too much pain, but yet he had to do _something_. His eyes fell on the sink above him and then looked back at the shower. Harry knew his only other choice was to go back into the … _No,_ his mind hissed. He’d stay in here as long as possible. But what if _he_ came in? His question was answered, however, when he heard the distant sound of a door being closed. Harry sighed in relief and briefly closed his eyes. He braced himself on one hand and gingerly sat up. Suddenly, he doubled over as the pain in his stomach overtook his body again. In a fleeting thought, Harry regretted not taking the potion he was offered.

Harry couldn’t wait any longer. He could do this. He _had_ to. Still clutching his side, Harry pulled himself along the floor with his one arm and his two legs until he reached the inside of the shower. He couldn’t believe that moving just a few feet seemed to take forever. He leaned against the shower wall and turned the knobs. Harry gasped loudly as the water hit his body and instantly scooted away from the scorching liquid. He carefully crossed his legs in front of him and hung his head. He glanced back over to the basin and gasped. There was blood in front of it. _His_ blood. He quickly looked down and his breath caught in his throat when a thin streak of pink flowed down the drain.

“Oh God,” he whispered.

They lied. There _was_ damage. He was bleeding. Harry felt another wave of nausea and covered his mouth. Bastards. They _lied_. He watched until the water finally ran clear. Harry let out a small sigh of relief. It couldn’t be that bad if it had stopped, but he had to find out for sure. He twisted his body to the side and lifted himself to a kneeling position. Harry took another deep breath and carefully reached in between his legs. He hissed as his finger touched his entrance, expecting some kind of pain, but there was none. Harry slowly inserted one finger, withdrew it and held it up to his face. Even without his glasses, he could tell that there was no other evidence of blood. Harry closed his eyes and barely smiled. No damage. Thank all the Gods above.

Slowly and carefully, Harry washed his body, taking extra care with his backside. It wasn’t as difficult as he had originally thought to clean himself from a sitting position, and actually he did quite well. Thorough even. After ten long minutes, Harry rinsed and shut off the tap. He crawled out of the shower and reached up to grab the hanging towel. Harry knew he could no longer delay standing, so he gripped the basin with one hand and the sink with the other, and lifted himself up slowly. Harry’s legs almost gave out a couple of times before somewhat stabilising. He clutched the sides of the sink and gazed into the mirror.

From what he could see, his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He raised his fingers to them and softly touched his skin. They _were_ swollen. He squinted and took a hard look at himself. A single tear ran down his face and he had to look away. It wasn’t him. It _was_ him, but - just as he swore in his wedding vow - he was a new Harry Potter. Harry shook his head and turned away. He had to get out of there, but the only other choice was the _bedroom_. He toweled off and wrapped it loosely around his waist. Keeping himself braced against the wall, he trudged back in.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape entered back into his quarters - _their_ quarters he corrected himself - closing the door softly behind him. His private workplace he had left was adjoined with the living area, concealed behind a large tapestry behind the bar. Severus used that secret room primarily for special potions requested by Madam Pomfrey and the Dark Lord. It also held a large collection of tomes that consisted of illegal Dark Arts recipes, spells and potions that if discovered, would certainly mean Azkaban for life. It was not surprising then that Severus made sure it was well hidden.

Carefully holding the containers in one hand, he quietly opened the bedroom door and walked straight back to the bath, expecting to find his young spouse still huddled on the floor. Because the door was ajar, he should've known that Harry wasn’t in there, but he had to make sure. Severus backed up and turned to glance around the room, but the young man was nowhere to be seen. Surely he hadn’t gone out. And even if he had, the gown and the white robe wouldn’t still be lying on the floor abandoned. He couldn’t have gone far then.

The older wizard immediately set the bottles down on the bedside table to take a better look around. The duvet was crumpled at the end of the bed and the sheet was missing. The room was neither that large nor equipped with enough furniture for Harry to be hiding successfully in it. Severus gave the room one last sweep before turning back towards the living room, but stopped short when he heard a muffled noise coming from the farthest corner. He approached silently and peered over from the foot of the bed and there was Harry crouched in the corner, underneath the sheets.

Only a small bit of the young man’s hair was visible and the rest of him was encased like a mummy. For a moment, Severus watched the clothed figure tremble and listened to the erratic breathing that sounded to be coming from an open mouth. He gingerly knelt down in front of him, but braced himself for an abrupt backlash from his spouse.

“Harry?” he whispered gently. No reply. “Harry,” he said a little louder. Still nothing. 

Unable to restrain himself, Severus lightly touched the top of Harry’s head. The boy instantly scooted further back and recoiled, tightening his arms around his legs. Severus slowly rose to his feet, backed away and inwardly sighed. Again he should've known better. It was much too soon… but he had to try. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

From under the covers, Harry was awakened by the sound of clinking bottles. He felt a presence near him and his name softly whispered. He cringed when a hand touched his hair because the _last_ thing Harry wanted was to be touched in _any_ manner. Especially from _him_. All he wanted right now was to be left alone.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As he stood back and watched Harry shivering, Severus’s mind drifted back to the time when he himself was in that same position. He remembered just how frightened _he_ was and how no comfort in the world would’ve helped him relax. Severus was a little older than Harry is now, but the emotions and the humiliation he must be feeling about now was probably the same. Yes, he decided… it was best that he should wait a while and try again.

Severus never received the comfort that he promised himself to give Harry, but the situation was quite different then. He remembered that he was only given one hour to recover and then it would start all over again. Severus began to wonder if that meant he was no better than the ones that had inflicted the pain on him. _No!_ He told himself. This was different. The situation was different. _He_ was different and his intentions were different. Convincing himself of this, Severus returned to living area, poured himself another glass of wine and sat in front of the fireplace before finally giving in to his body’s demand for sleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus woke up with a start a few hours later, almost spilling the alcohol out of his glass that he was still clutching. He glanced up at the clock and noticed it hadn’t been just a _few_ hours that went by, but _five_. He stood and placed his drink down on the bar and entered the bedroom as quietly as he could. Since he didn’t have his wand – neither one did – he retrieved a set of clean sheets and made up the bed. Perhaps he could persuade Harry to lie down. His mind abandoned that thought though when he heard the slow, deep breathing coming from the side of the bed and knew straight away that Harry was already in a deep slumber. Severus lied down, covered himself up, and watched Harry till he fell back to sleep.

Another hour had passed and Severus snapped his eyes open thinking he heard a loud groan. He leaned over and Harry was still there, but he now was shaking violently. It was now ten past eight in the morning and decided that it was time to wake his young husband before his dreams - or rather his nightmares - consumed him. Severus swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid down, kneeling before Harry. He reached out and stroked Harry’s back. The response was immediate. The sheet was yanked down and a pair of green eyes glared at him.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Harry screamed, pushing himself further into the corner. His voice sounded rough and ragged. 

Severus sighed in relief. “Harry, I need to…” he began.

“Go away,” his young husband whispered, interrupting him and covered his body once more.

Severus sat there for a moment, unable to move. He was tempted to follow his instincts and _make_ Harry get up, but instead he pulled himself to his feet. He would try again later.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus glanced back at Harry before walking into the bathroom. Since it was past midnight, and all the required rituals were now over, the demand for the wedded couple to bathe together no longer applied. Severus shrugged off his robe, stepped into the shower and turned the knobs. He backed away from the sprout, letting the warm liquid coat just his legs. He reached for the soap, lathered it up in the water and then out of habit, lowered it to his groin - as that was the first thing he usually washed. Severus’s face paled.

The older wizard blinked several times in hopes that what he was looking at … wasn’t truly there. Blood. A small trace of dried blood was still clinging to his body. The bar of soap slipped through his fingers and he fell forward, catching himself on the wall. Severus’s forehead pressed into the cool tile while the water ran down his back. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. He just stood there under the spray until the water finally ran cold.

After the initial shock wore off, Severus quickly finished cleaning himself and dried off. He wrapped the damp towel around his waist and timidly approached Harry. His young husband was still crouched in the corner, hiding under the dirty sheets. From what Severus could tell, the boy hadn’t bled _that_ much, but in any case, he had to make sure. And he had to act fast. For the third time that day, he knelt before his husband.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry, please let me help you. I need to make sure…” he began but was unable to finish. He sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

Instantly, he regretted saying that.

Harry’s face appeared. “Are you _mad_? Of course I fucking hurt, you bastard! I hurt everywhere thanks to _you_!”

Severus instinctively became defensive. “I had no other choice, boy, and you know it,” he hissed.

Harry’s eyes opened wild and his body flushed with rage. “You liar! You could’ve warned me! You could’ve _told_ me that there was a deadline!” he screamed through his raw throat. “You could’ve told me that there could’ve been a chance of …of this!” he spat, gesturing down his body.

Harry’s eyes challenged his husband to say something. _Anything_. But Severus said nothing. Harry took several breaths, swallowed painfully and stared at the wall. 

“You…you…Why did you… why _didn’t_ you …” Harry choked, his voice fading along with his words. His head fell back down and hugged his legs again. Harry buried his face once again into the flattened pillow that was still resting on his knees. “Go away,” he whispered.

And reluctantly, Severus left.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus snuck back into the bedroom several times over the next few hours to check on Harry, but still left him alone. As the minutes turned into hours, he began to get impatient. If Harry needed medical attention, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

At noon, Dobby appeared with two plates of food, placing them on the small table. When he noticed Harry was nowhere to be seen, he looked accusingly at Snape, expecting a full explanation. Severus merely sneered at the elf and waved him away. With a snort, Dobby disappeared. He returned at half past five, again with two hot meals. This time Dobby wouldn’t budge.

“Where is Harry Potter?” he demanded.

“He is fine, now go away,” Snape retorted.

“Dobby will _not_ go away. Where is Harry Potter?” he repeated slowly.

Severus rose up to his feet and walked over to him, hands clenched at his side. “I said, he is…”

“I will tell Mr Dumbledore,” Dobby blurted out, then vanished.

Severus stalked back to the bedroom and stood in front of Harry.

“It has been well over eight hours and I need to see if you require…” Severus began in a firm voice.

Harry jumped to his feet, staggering slightly. “Why can’t you just leave me alone! I’m fine!” he hissed. “That’s what you told Dobby, isn’t it?”

“If I thought you were in immediate danger, I would have forced you to…” Severus stopped, realising the word he had chosen.

The young wizard began laughing, almost hysterically. “No need to finish that statement, Death Eater,” Harry said crossing his arms. “We both know what you’re capable of.”

Snape began to tremble in rage and moved in close, leering down at him.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Harry challenged. “My _permission_?”

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a loud knock on the door. He sneered at Harry then spun around and headed to the living room. He knew who it was. Albus Dumbledore. As he opened the door, the bedroom door slammed shut.

“May I come in?” Dumbledore inquired.

Severus stepped aside and motioned with his arms for the older wizard to enter. Albus looked around, before locking his eyes on the two plates of uneaten food. He turned to face Severus.

“I expected the two of you not to attend breakfast, but lunch and dinner?”

Snape glanced at the closed bedroom door. “I apologise, Albus. He wasn’t … _we_ weren’t feeling well,” he lied.

“I see,” Dumbledore acknowledged, nodding his head. “Does he need Madam Pomfrey’s assistance?”

Severus looked away and sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Severus,” Albus warned. “If he needs…”

“I know that, Albus,” he snapped suddenly.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Don’t put me in this position, Severus. _You_ need to take care of this matter _now_.”

Severus turned his back to him and folded his arms. “I will. You can be sure of that.”

Albus said not another word and left quietly.

“Damnit,” groaned Severus.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the wall, still clutching his precious pillow.

“Well?” he said bitterly. “I suppose I have to lie on the bed now so you can examine me.”

“Yes,” Snape mumbled.

Harry hung his head. “I hate you,” he whispered.

Severus crossed the room and stood in front of Harry. He slowly squat down.

“Harry, please. I didn’t want it to come to this. You must believe me.”

The young man snapped his head up. “ _Believe_ you?” he mocked. “I don’t believe a word you say.”

And with that, Harry pushed Severus backwards and laid face down.

“Well? Get on with it,” he hissed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	14. Chapter Fourteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Fourteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus stood slowly as he watched his young husband climb up on the bed and sprawl out face down. Snape looked longingly at him, eyes drifting from one end of his body to the other. Harry’s muscles were still very taut but it wasn’t from fear or anger. The convulsions his stomach had endured showed quite clearly why: his body ached. And Snape had caused it. He _could_ make Harry forget last night– with spells or potions – but that would be the easiest way out. The cowardly way out. So Severus made another vow: to do anything to make Harry _forgive_. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry sensed that Snape was hesitating, but _why_? Was he _trying_ to make him feel more vulnerable than he already was? Because if that _was_ Snape’s intention…

_No,_ Harry thought angrily. _I won't let him._

Harry had finally had enough. All of this was making him emotionally and physically drained and he was tired of feeling this way. He just wanted this to be over and over with _now_. Harry raised his head and looked over his shoulder to see what was going on. At the same time a thin cool material was draped over his lower back. Harry tried to twist around, but he was stopped when the older wizard spoke.

“Turn over, Harry.” Snape's voice appeared to be calm but there was the slightest hint of an order. And Harry heard it.

Harry roughly rolled over and glared up at the dark onyx eyes. It was filled with an unreadable expression. Snape quickly looked away and adjusted the sheet to better conceal Harry’s ‘private’ area. He then slowly straddled Harry’s legs, making certain that the thin material separated their skin. He avoided the piercing eyes that was watching his every movement, and leaned over to retrieve the jar of relaxant he had made just minutes ago. He poured a little into one hand, and then rubbed the two together, generously coating them both.

Severus placed his hands gently on Harry’s tense shoulders, rubbing them smoothly back and forth with the slightest pressure from his thumbs. That soft and yet subtle act alone caused the young wizard to flinch and Snape couldn’t help but glance up to Harry’s face. The boy was still watching him. He quickly focused his attention back to Harry’s sore arms, sliding both hands up and down one then across to the other. Without lifting his hands, he ran his palms over to the pale chest, carefully massaging only the muscles and intentionally avoiding his nipples. Severus’s hands were moving with such grace and agility, he wondered why his young husband hadn’t relaxed yet. But as his fingers went up Harry’s sternum, the young wizard finally spoke.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a simple question to be sure, but not an easy one to answer. Severus knew _exactly_ what Harry was referring to, which is why he chose to ignore it.

“You had said that your entire body hurt.”

Harry clenched his jaw. He knew that’s probably the only answer that he was ever going to get. He tried a different tact.

“Why are you behaving like this?”

That caught Severus off-guard. His hands abruptly stopped and he closed his eyes as he took a deep breath.

“I’m going to tell you something, Harry and I trust you not to tell anyone because we are in fact married.” Severus said with a serious tone his voice. “Do you know what would happen if a simple mistake was made during the making of a potion?”

It was a rhetorical question so Harry remained quiet and waited for the answer.

“The consequences of such a small error could result in a loss of life or the destruction of this school. Every potion must be carefully brewed, mixed and measured. It is a difficult skill and should be practiced with the utmost sincerity. _I_ take it very serious and many ignorant fools do not.” He paused. “I am quite aware that I am not favoured among all the other teachers because I _am_ strict, but I have justifiable reasons to be.”

“What does that have to do with...”

Severus held up a hand to silence him and continued. “Not many individuals know what I’m truly like in my private life because I _chose_ not to reveal myself. It is my choice. That may sound cold, but again, that is my choice.” Severus cleared his throat and slowly began to stroke along the planes of Harry’s chest. “I’ve had a hard life, Harry and it’s been a long time since… I’ve done anything for anyone.”

“But you did – _what you did_ – to _me_ ,” Harry said, his voice rising.

Snape remained silent for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly then carefully scooted down to massage Harry’s legs. 

“Yes, I did,” he admitted.

“Do you expect me to _forgive_ you?” he snarled.

Severus’s head shot up, his eyes meeting hardened green ones. “No I don’t and I don’t expect you ever will,” he lied.

“Good,” Harry hissed. “Because I don’t and I _won't_. Ever.”

The older husband flinched slightly, but Harry didn’t notice. He was too angry.

“Of course not,” Snape stated flatly.

He focused back to the tight muscles of Harry’s calves then moved down to the boy’s feet. Believing that they were finished, he looked up.

“Now, if you will allow me, I will tend to your…backside.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at that vague insinuation, but abruptly turned over. He felt the sheet move slightly to re-cover Harry’s lower spine and his bum. Severus’s hands were on him again - remoistened with oil - and began kneading his shoulders. Harry turned his face to the right and stared at the opposite wall.

_How could he be so nonchalant about all of this?_ Harry thought bitterly. _Does he honestly think that his reasons are justifiable?_

Harry’s mind couldn’t even begin to fathom what Snape's true intentions were or – in Harry’s opinion – his lame and selfish motives. Just where _was_ the consideration for _him_? It wasn’t mentioned and Harry doubted that it ever would be. It was all about _Snape_.

At that moment, he never felt so alone and so unloved.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus took his time as he caressed, rubbed, and massaged - alternating between soft and firm. His strong fingers molded to Harry’s body and the lotion was rapidly becoming warm. Strange that it didn’t do this to his front. Perhaps his back needed extra attention. Perhaps that’s why he’s moving at a slower rate. Perhaps? But as Snape reached back up to his throat, Harry got his answer.

“Harry,” Severus began. “I never meant it to begin the way it did. I apologise. I know I should've waited.” 

As Snape spoke, his hand loosened and was using just his fingers to lightly caress his skin. Harry’s eyes widened and softly gasped. He realised that something in the tone of Snape's voice was different. It was lower. Softer. Even the way his husband was touching him was different. Harry’s heart began to beat faster and suddenly felt the need to bolt. 

“Stop! What are you...”

“I don’t have much experience with relationships, Harry,” Snape confessed. “But I was just so anxious to be with you.”

“What?” the young wizard exclaimed, raising his voice.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the slight grazing of his husband’s robe on his back. Before, Snape was up on his knees avoiding any form of contact and _now he was leaning over him_? How could he do this to him after what happened last night? Didn’t he care?

Harry willed his muscles to clench. To tighten. To _move_. But they wouldn’t. They _couldn’t_. He was too paralysed with fear and the ‘lotion’ was now embedded deep into his skin. _Fucking bastard_. Everything had completely relaxed him. Everything but his voice that is.

“What have you _done_ to me? Why are you doing this?” he said, panicking.

“Harry.” Snape whispered in a voice that was thick and sultry. “I know I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. Please let me.” Snape's lips lightly feathered over Harry’s shoulder. “I need you.”

_What?_ Harry’s mind cried. _He needs me? What a self-absorbed…_

Slowly, Snape parted his robe and lowered himself until his body completely covered Harry’s. The older wizard reached down and the thin material that separated them … was removed. Suddenly, Harry’s mouth flew open.

“No!” he cried as he felt the hardened flesh press against his bum. No answer. Only heavy breathing. Harry swallowed hard and tried again. “No,” he pleaded softly. “Don’t… Please don’t do this. _Please_.”

Snape's hips pushed down and murmured into the young wizard’s throat.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Please, don’t deny me…” Snape paused. “…my needs.”

With those six words alone, Harry instantly froze. This wasn’t part of the marriage ritual. This was part of the marriage _contract!_

_…Maintaining regular but moderate marital sex…_

And in his own vow, Harry had agreed. 

_…Because of this contract, you are allowed to take your pleasure by using me as a vessel…_

And Snape wanted him to honour it! _Right now!_

_Oh God! No! NO! How could he?_

Harry’s eyes teared up, and tried desperately not to cry.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus slid his body down Harry's, trailing kisses along the way. Harry’s upper half was now free to move, but he kept as still as possible. He’d be damned if Snape thought Harry would respond to _anything_ he was planning to do to him. He wouldn’t give that bastard the satisfaction.

_That’s it,_ Harry thought angrily. _He’d just have to fuck a corpse._

Severus’s face hovered over Harry’s arse and licked the top of each one tenderly. He wedged the lower part of his arms between Harry’s legs, nudging for them to open. Harry complied. His legs trembled however as they were being pushed further apart so Snape's arms could fit comfortably in the centre. His hands settled on the bottom of both cheeks and the pads of Snape's thumbs slowly pulled them apart. Harry gasped. He didn’t know how much longer he could just pretend to play ‘dead’. Long fingers touched his cleft, causing another gasp to leave his parched throat. A wet tongue ran from his balls to his puckered entrance and it was then that Harry’s fear overwhelmed him.

“N-no. Please.” He hated how pathetic his voice sounded.

“Ssh, Harry. I swear I won't hurt you. I just want to make it up to you,” Snape whispered.

_Yeah right, you selfish prick!_ his mind cried.

The tongue circled around Harry’s entrance a couple more times before burrowing just inside. Perhaps in another time and place – _and with someone else_ – this particular act might have felt pleasant, but right now… it was vile. Harry could no longer keep his eyes open. He closed them tight and tried to imagine that he was somewhere else. _Anywhere_ else.

Harry’s eyes shot open when Snape's tongue was removed and was replaced with a lubricated finger.

“NO!”

“Shh. I can't wait until you do this to _me_ ,” his husband purred as he crawled up Harry’s body – still leaving his finger inside.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

What happened after that was a blur to Harry. He _had_ gone somewhere else and he was watching from the sidelines.

Harry was rolled on his side and his leg hooked behind Snape's. The one finger soon became two, then three, then finally… 

Snape didn’t lie; it didn’t hurt this time, but the fear, the anguish, and the humiliation… was still the same. _Especially_ the humiliation. And through it all, Harry’s skin burned as if it was on fire. It wasn’t from Snape's careful and patient administrations or even the lotion. It was the simple fact that he was being used.

His mind repeated a single thought. 

_…Because of this contract, you are allowed to take your pleasure by using me as a vessel…_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

At some point, Harry found himself on his stomach and reality finally had appeared when a cool draft breezed over his wet and sticky back. Was it over? It had to be. Nothing was touching his body except for the drenched sheets lying underneath him. Harry continued to lay there unmoving. He didn’t even flinch when a hand rested on his hip and a warm presence came near and leaned against him. Dark green eyes just stared straight ahead at the distant wall.

“Harry,” a low voice whispered, panting fast and shallow. “ _Harry_. I told you it would be all right. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Severus breathed, running his hand along Harry’s spine. “I only wish that I could have pleasured you like you did me.”

Harry didn’t come. He didn’t even get hard.

“Come on. Let’s take a shower.”

The young wizard remained where he was until a firm hand pulled him up and off the bed. He let himself be guided into the bathroom, all the while staring at nothing. Harry’s body was numb and he was barely aware that he was being cleaned. He felt nothing. Not the water, the soap, the hands… nothing. He wondered if that made _him_ nothing.

After he was dried off, they returned back to the bed where new clean sheets and duvet was waiting for them.

“Harry? Are you all right? You seem rather quiet.”

The young wizard wanted laugh. Not scream or cry, but laugh. So instead of answering, he crawled to the left side of the bed and slowly curled up, facing away from his _husband_. Harry didn’t flinch as he was covered, nor move when a tall body pressed against him. The lights flickered briefly before extinguishing, but Harry’s eyes remained open, staring blankly at the same wall. Sleep never came to Harry.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus turned over on his back and stretched the length of his bed. He rubbed his face briskly then batted his eyes to adjust to the well-lit room. The candles were enchanted to light when the occupant …or occupants… awoke. Harry must be awake then. Snape rolled over and stroked Harry's arm under the duvet. Even though it was thick, his skin felt cold.

“Harry?”

Silence.

“Harry? Are you awake?”

More silence.

“Harry. It’s time for breakfast. We already missed lunch and dinner and we need to at least make an appearance. Plus you haven’t eaten since… well, since yesterday.”

Still no response, but there was the sound of heavy breathing. Severus gently turned Harry over and looked into the young man’s eyes. They were just as expressionless as the owner’s face. Snape ran the palm of his hand over Harry's cheek and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Harry,” he breathed into his mouth. “Don’t be nervous. There’s no reason to be. No one will say anything. I promise.”

Severus barely smiled, and to Harry, it looked strange on him. He watched Snape as he rolled over, stood and then began to dress. Harry still didn’t move but continued to watch him. After putting on his last piece of clothing, Snape sat down next to Harry and his eyes narrowed.

“Harry. Get up and get dressed. We’re going to be late,” he stated with a touch of annoyance.

Snape rose off the bed, taking Harry with him and Harry let him. The young man followed him to his new wardrobe closet and looked at it blankly then back to his husband. Severus took that as a sign that Harry didn’t know which outfit to put on. He didn’t understand the boy’s confusion because they were Harry’s old clothes. Severus sighed and picked out some for him, then handed them to Harry.

“These should work. Do you need any assistance?”

Harry shook his head. It was the first movement Harry had made by his own admission. Snape gave him a small smile. He stepped back and watched as his young husband go through the simple routine of dressing. Severus nodded at Harry when he was finished, then motioned with a tilt of his head to the door. They walked into the living area and made it as far as the entrance when Snape noticed that Harry wasn’t behind him. He was standing in the centre of the room.

“Harry,” Severus began as he approached him. “It’s all right. I told you. There's nothing to worry about. No one will say anything.”

Harry stared at him for a moment and then reluctantly complied.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The Great Hall was alive with chatter. When Harry stepped through the main doors however, the room instantly became deafly quiet and hundreds of eyes focused in on The Boy-Who-Lived. Harry immediately bowed his head to conceal his reddened face, and briskly walked to his seat between Hermione and Ron. He still could feel everyone gawking at him as he gingerly sat down. Taking a few deep breaths, he placed his hands on his lap and waited. Harry heard the sounds of several whispers until others soon joined in and the Great Hall was filled once more with noise. He sighed in relief.

Harry timidly raised his head just enough to locate the pumpkin juice and poured himself a small glass. He knew he his classmates were observing every move he made. Even though they were talking amongst themselves, his knew the topic was about him. Harry’s embarrassment grew with each passing second. Suddenly, he wished he was still back in that atrocious bed. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat at that thought.

“Hey mate,” Ron said, attempting to break the ice.

Harry glanced up and gave him a small fake smile then looked back to his plate. He hadn’t even touched it. He just wasn’t hungry.

“Hello, Harry,” Hermione tried.

He flickered his eyes up just long enough to see everyone at the Gryffindor table was watching him. He sighed.

“I’m fine,” Harry muttered, hoping that would satisfy everybody.

It didn’t.

“Harry,” Hermione began softly. “If there’s anything we can do…”

“I said I’m fine!” Harry barked.

The young witched gasped and quickly looked away. Ron frowned then put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Harry, we’re only…”

“Don’t touch me!” Harry screamed, jumping to his feet.

The occupants of the Great Hall froze. The young wizard stood there panting heavily, glaring down at his two best friends. His face was bright red and his fists were clenched tightly at his side. He scanned the room hatefully and then bolted out as fast as he could. Ron pulled on Hermione’s sleeve and gestured for them to follow. She shook her head frantically. 

“Hermione. Come on. He may not say it, but he _needs_ us.”

The young witch thought a moment before nodding once. Before leaving, both of them glanced at Snape. He gave them a curt nod. They quickly ran after Harry. Everyone in the large room was in a state of shock save one.

Draco Malfoy. He snorted at the retreating figures then turned and sneered at Professor Snape.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	15. Chapter Fifteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Fifteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley hoped Harry hadn’t gotten too far away from the Great Hall because they didn’t have any idea which way he might’ve gone. As luck would have it though, Harry was standing at an open window just two corridors down. Both of his two friends stopped short and watched him for a moment before slowly walking towards him. It was Hermione who spoke first.

“Harry,” she began softly. She flinched when Harry tightened his grip on the ledge. She quickly looked at Ron.

Ron took a deep sigh, trying to hold his anger back. “Harry, what did that bastard do to you?” he said evenly.

Harry snapped his head around and glared at him with disgust. 

“Look, Harry. You were gone all day yesterday, and I know it was _his_ fault.” Harry looked back out the window and Ron paused for a minute. “Do you know what that bastard just did? After you ran out, he actually had the audacity to look smug about it! He even nodded to us like we were asking his permission to go after you!”

Harry sighed, closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

“Harry,” said Hermione. “We were so worried. We thought…”

Harry spun around and faced the two of them. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. She glanced away and nibbled on her bottom lip nervously.

“He swore to us that he wouldn’t hurt you,” the young witch whispered.

Harry finally spoke. “Did he now?” he said sarcastically, looking over her shoulder.

“You can tell us, Harry. You can tell us anything,” Ron added.

Harry’s lip curled into a strange smile. “I’m afraid you were misinformed. I’m not allowed.”

Three voices cried out as one. “What?”

Hermione and Ron spun around and was surprised to see Professor Snape standing a few feet behind them. He was watching Harry closely and his arms were folded tightly over his chest.

“What is he talking about?” Ron asked Snape accusingly.

Severus narrowed his eyes and glowered at Harry. The two friends looked back to Harry who was glaring back just as hateful.

“Why don’t you tell them?” Harry said flatly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Snape retorted.

“Oh I think you do.”

Hermione and Ron’s head was going back and forth between the two, much like in a tennis match.

“Will one of you explain?” the redhead finally blurted out.

The married couple stayed silent for a moment until Harry scoffed at Snape.

“I was told… now how did it go again? Oh yes. And I quote: ‘You will not tell _anyone_ what happens in the privacy of our quarters’”.

“That was _not_ what I was referring to and you know it!”

The young husband snorted. “Well, I suppose you should have been more specific then.”

He nodded once to Hermione then to Ron. “If you’ll please excuse me,” Harry said haughtily and then turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” asked Snape with a touch of annoyance that he was just walking away from this.

Harry looked over his shoulder with a sneer. “Why? Do I need your _permission_ now?”

Severus gritted his teeth but said nothing. The three of them watched Harry as he stormed away, heading for the main entrance. As soon as he was out of earshot, Ron spun around.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

“Mr Weasley…” Snape warned.

“That’s what you had said though!” Ron looked at Hermione for confirmation and the young witch nodded. “You said...”

“Enough! I know what I said. And may I remind you, I had also told you that I was not in a position to…”

“I know that! But look at him! He looks awful! It looks as if he hadn’t eaten in days! Or slept for that matter!”

“Ron! This isn’t helping!” Hermione said exasperated.

Ron ignored her and took a step closer to Snape. “I swear, you’d better not have…”

“Be careful of what you say, Mr Weasley,” he cautioned.

The hot-tempered redhead clenched his jaw and pursed his lips tightly. He opened and closed his fists several timed before spinning around, and with a loud grunt, he was gone. Hermione softly sighed as she watched her friend retreat then faced Snape.

“Sir,” she started.

“Severus, Hermione. You may call me Severus.”

She nodded as a hint of blush crept over her soft features. “I don’t understand any of this,” she admitted.

Snape inhaled sharply and his eyes lightened. _‘She always was the smartest of the three,’_ he mused.

“Hermione, it seems that Harry had taken something I said out of context. He is allowed to talk to you and Mr Weasley about anything he wishes. I apologise if I seemed rather abrupt just now. I know that this has been hard on all of us, but I assure you, Harry needs the both of you more than ever.”

She looked over to the direction Harry had gone then over to where Ron stormed off. She lowered her head and whispered, “I know, sir… Severus. But it’s just…” Hermione paused to think of the right words. “I don’t know how.”

_‘Miss Granger? Doesn’t know?’_ Snape almost smiled at that. Thank goodness she wasn’t looking.

Hermione jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. “Just be there for him. Talk to him. Or better yet, let _him_ do the talking.” Severus paused. “Just be his friend, Hermione.”

She gave him a small smile and nodded in agreement. Snape nodded back and then turned around towards the dungeon. Lessons will be starting soon.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry plopped down on the grass and crossed his legs in front of him. He leaned his head back against the familiar tree and closed his eyes. For Harry, it was always peaceful here and he wanted time to think. To be alone. To be _left_ alone. He let out a shaky sigh and felt the tears welling up. A thin stream ran down his cheek and subconsciously wiped it away.

“Missing him already, Potter?” Malfoy drawled.

_‘Merlin, can't this arrogant prat just leave me alone for once?’_

“Or perhaps the famous Harry Potter is just out here _sulking_.”

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and then placed his forehead on top.

_‘Just go away, Malfoy.’._

“But then again, _why_ would Harry Potter be out here sulking?” the blond mused out loud.

“Shut up, Malfoy and go away,” Harry muttered.

“Ah, so you _are_ out here sulking. Now the question remains as to _why_. Did you not get everything you wanted, Potter?” he asked with mock-innocence.

Harry squeezed his legs tighter. _‘Go away go away go away!’_

“I think,” Malfoy whispered as he bent over, hovering just above Harry’s ears. “that you got everything that _he_ wanted.” 

Harry snapped his head up and gaped.

“Of course that’s just _my_ opinion,” Malfoy drawled as he turned around to head back to the castle.

Harry’s face was frozen in shock as he watched his long-time rival stride away.

“Where’s your Gryffindor courage _now_ , Potter?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Try as he might, Harry couldn’t get Malfoy’s words out of his head.

_“...you got everything that **he** wanted.”_

Did Malfoy know something that he didn’t? Was he just playing with him? Harry shifted awkwardly in his seat. He had missed his first class, Transfigurations, and fortunately, Professor McGonagall understood. Now he was in Double Potions and the thought of him being in the same room with Malfoy made him just as uncomfortable as being in the same room with his _husband_.

A low condescending voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy?”

The blond lowered his arm. “I was just wondering, Professor Snape…Oh, I apologise, sir… Professor _Potter_ ,” he smirked and Snape scowled. “If we had any homework from the time that you were…” he glanced at Harry. “…absent.”

Snape gave him a hard stare as he stalked towards him, but Malfoy kept his head held high.

“You have already been informed of your previous assignments, Mr Malfoy, and ten points will be taken away from Slytherin for your imprudent remark.”

The room gasped. Points taken? From _Slytherin_? Unheard of! Harry quickly looked down and suddenly felt the weight of twenty pairs of eyes watching him. He sighed. This was going to be a long day.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Class dismissed,” Snape said sharply. “Except…for Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter.”

The students murmured as they left the room and Harry could feel the tension building already. The two young wizards approached the Potions master’s desk…one with his head held high and the other with his lowered. As they stood before him, Snape glared at that trademarked smirk.

“Mr Malfoy, I am only going to tell you once. Do not _ever_ disrespect me in my class again. Is that quite clear?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Of course… _Professor_.”

Severus looked extremely infuriated, and finally snapped, “Dismissed.”

Malfoy nodded mockingly and stole a sideways glance to Harry before turning and strutting away. The older wizard took several deep breaths, stood and walked around to stand in front of Harry.

“Harry, what was that all about?” His voice was low and even.

His young husband looked up briefly. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, sir.”

Severus crossed his arms tightly over his chest and frowned. “I do have a _name_ , Harry,” he said with a hint of annoyance.

Harry lifted his head. “I know that, _Professor_ , but I believe classes are still in session.” He said his title with the exact tone Malfoy did.

Snape grit his teeth. Clearly he wasn’t going to win this one. “Harry,” he began, trying to sound calm. “I would like to know what is going on between you and Malfoy.”

Harry laughed stiffly. “I could ask _you_ the same question.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Then I suppose that makes us even now, doesn’t it?” he sneered. “Now, if that’s all, I’d like to go to lunch.”

Harry started to turn but Snape caught his arm. The young wizard hissed at him and jerked his arm free. Snape looked him curiously then took a step towards him and Harry instantly took a step back.

“Harry, what's going on?” he asked as Harry took another step back. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He snorted once but then his eyes widened as Snape raised his hand to his face. He quickly turned his face away.

“Harry…?” He advanced again.

The young wizard was now leaning against a desk, trying to push into it. Now trapped, Harry had had enough.

“What's the matter?” he spat. “Didn’t you get enough _last night_?”

Severus opened his mouth and stared blankly. “I was merely...” He was at a loss for words.

“You what?” he said impatiently. “Wasn’t enough that you raped me on my wedding night so you decided to do it again the next day?” he barked, voice rising.

“I did not rape you!”

Harry sneered and stuck out his chin. “Oh, really,” he drawled. “That’s strange because I didn’t know that the word NO meant YES!”

“You did _not_ say...”

“Like fuck I didn’t!” he screamed. “What? Now you're going deaf? Do you not understand English when you're about to _fuck_ someone?”

Snape looked at him disbelieving. It wasn’t true, was it? Harry said _‘No’_? He shook his head slowly. “No,” he whispered.

“Oh yes, dear _husband_. How about in the future, you _warn_ me ahead of time so I can at least be _somewhat_ prepared!”

Harry stood there, fists clenched, panting heavily. His eyes darted back and forth to the two unblinking ones.

“Now, _Professor_ , may I be excused or did you want me to bend over so _you can have another go_?”

Snape opened and closed his mouth several times then whispered, “You’re excused.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry drawled sarcastically.

Severus watched his young husband storm out of the room, frozen in time. Several passing students gasped as the loud sounds of shattering glass echoed in the corridors.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus walked, just short of running, to his private lab. Papers and book flew everywhere as he tried to find the recipe for the lotion he used on Harry.

“Damnit!” he hissed as he threw a book across the room.

After scouring his lab for twenty minutes, he found what he was looking for. He read it over and over again, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. Nothing. He did nothing wrong. He mixed and brewed it precisely as instructed. With a loud grunt, he fell back in his chair and threw his head down in his hands. As he cowered over, he ran his fingers through his hair until pulling it hard. Something went wrong. _Something_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

If the heavy wooden Potions Classroom doors could slam, they’d be off their hinges by now the way Harry closed it. He didn’t want to go into the Great Hall now, losing his appetite….Again. So, he headed for the only place he felt safe: his tree. _Their_ tree. He rounded the last corner.

“So, Potter. Do you have… _detention_ , now?” Malfoy mused.

Harry spun around. “Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone, Malfoy?” he yelled. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

The smug blond pressed away from the wall he’d been leaning on, and took a slow step forward.

“You’ve got it wrong, Potter. _I’m_ not the one playing,” he smirked, then turned around and headed to the Great Hall.

Several minutes went by before Harry screamed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco Malfoy didn’t have to wait long. A tall, dark-haired man with a billowing robe swept by him, unaware of the boy hiding in the shadows. He stepped out.

“Professor,” he began, grinning wickedly.

Snape spun around, wand drawn. “Mr Malfoy, I have had quite enough of your…”

Malfoy interrupted. “I was wondering if you could help me solve a puzzle.”

The furious Potions master took a step forward, leering over the smaller wizard. “You're treading water, boy,” he warned.

The blond didn’t flinch. “I thought so,” he sneered.

He brushed passed his teacher, shaking his head. It was now Severus who wanted to scream. Fortunately, he was able to restrain himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	16. Chapter Sixteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Sixteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Because of Malfoy’s taunting, Harry was no longer upset. Nor was he embarrassed or humiliated. He became…angry. Again. And as his classes dragged on, it only intensified. Harry could still feel the blatant staring, but now it felt different somehow. At first he knew it was out of sheer curiosity, but now it appeared as if they’re looking at him with sympathy. Or worse…pity. That’s the _last_ thing Harry wanted. He didn’t want their pity; he wanted their apology. They should be down on their hands and feet begging Harry for his forgiveness. Admitting their guilt. _Anything_ but pity.

By the time Quidditch practice had arrived, Harry was absolutely livid. And it showed. On any normal practice day, he would’ve been able to catch the Snitch at least three times…if he was lucky. Today though, with his anger in full swing, he caught it _five_ times…and his teammates noticed. They watched him more than what _they_ were doing, and because of it, they performed poorly.

After practice, Harry ignored the constant stares and whispers and marched out of the changing room without showering. He couldn’t. Because that would mean he’d have to be naked. Exposed. And Harry wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’s had enough of feeling vulnerable to last a lifetime. So he stormed back to his new ‘home’, and tore off his uniform piece by piece, tossing them everywhere. There was a dark figure sitting in front of the living room fireplace, but Harry was too furious to notice.

Harry made it to the bath, turned on the tap and hot water blasted out of the faucet. As the steaming water slid down his body, Harry felt a presence in the room. His _husband_. He grunted with disgust and began scrubbing his skin till it was raw. Finally rinsing off, Harry threw open the curtain and glared at Snape.

“You know it’s bad enough that I have to _live_ you, but do you have to be around me every second of the day?” he snapped.

Calmly, Severus explained. “I need to talk with you…about last night.”

“And you couldn’t have waited till I was _done_?” Harry shouted as he grabbed a towel.

Snape sighed and nodded. “I’ll wait in the other room.”

Harry watched him, his eyes locked on the retreating figure. He quickly dried off, resisting his urge to go slowly so the bastard would have to wait. Now dressed in casual clothes, Harry storms in the adjacent room and folds his arms defiantly.

“Well?” he hissed.

“Harry, would you mind sitting?” Severus said, gesturing to the opposite chair.

Harry paused for a moment, wanting desperately to refuse. He scoffed and plopped down.

“Well?” he asked again.

Severus looked away and stared into the blazing fire. He took a deep breath then turned back to a pair of dark green eyes.

“I know what happened last night,” he stated simply.

“Oh, you mean why you felt the need to rape me?” Harry said bitterly.

“Would you let me finish?” Snape hissed and Harry’s eyes narrowed. “As I said, I know what happened. The lotion I made was supposed to heighten your senses and…” He stopped and glanced away.

“To turn me on?” Harry cried, disbelieving. “You used a _tainted_ lotion on me? You…you...Bastard! How could you? How could you _do_ that to me?”

“It was only meant to relax you!”

“Bollocks! You knew all along what it was going to do to me! Didn’t you?”

Snape clenched his teeth and a red tinge appeared on his cheeks. Harry raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“But it didn’t work, did it?” Harry surmised out loud. “It didn't work on me so it backfired,” he said, realising the truth. “It did, didn’t it?”

Severus turned back to the fireplace and took a deep breath. “Yes,” he admitted softly.

Harry abruptly stood up, fists bunching at his sides. “So is that your pathetic excuse? You force yourself on me and _that’s_ the only excuse you have?” he snapped.

“I’m merely explaining to you _why_ I behaved that way. I didn’t know that would happen,” Snape suddenly growled, irritated at the accusation. “That is not how I normally…make love.”

Harry started breathing fast and shallow. “For your information, you have to be _in love_ with someone to _make love_. Don’t you _dare_ tell me you made love to me because that was Not... Making… Love!”

“I know that,” Snape hissed. “And before your wild imagination carries you away, I am _not_ in love with you. It’s _only_ an expression.”

Harry stared at him intently then said in a low voice, “You will never touch me again. Do you hear me? _Never_.”

He continued staring at Snape and then marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry scanned Hogwarts grounds, making sure Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found. He slid down his large tree and wrapped his arms around his legs, attempting to shut out the world. _How could he do that?_ he thought bitterly. _Wasn’t there something in the marriage contract that forbade the use of magical coercion?_ Harry tried to remember, but was drawing a blank. Maybe there was some way of obtaining a copy to find out.

Harry sighed and watched the sun slowly fading into the horizon.

“Ginny,” he whispered as a tear fell.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry could no longer deny it. He was starving. Taking long, hurried strides, he made his way into the Great Hall in no time. He took a deep breath before entering, then held his head high and tried to ignore the hundreds of curious heads turning in his direction. He sat down in his usual seat and immediately began filling his plate with large portions of food. The tense silence surrounding him was unbearable. He decided to ‘play nice’.

“Hello, Ron. Hello, Hermione,” he acknowledged, nodding in their direction.

The young witch gasped in shock and Ron broke into a full grin.

“Hiya, mate,” the redhead said, smiling.

Harry tried his best to give a pleasant smile to them before nibbling on a few carrots. He inwardly sighed as he heard the familiar voices of his classmates beginning to start up again. Harry ate slowly, careful not to gorge himself. He knew that if he did, he’d get sick because he had gone so long without eating. He actually did learn something whilst living with the Dursleys.

“Harry? Are you…” Hermione began timidly, but stopped when she saw Harry wince. She tried something else. “Ron and I are going to Hogsmeade this weekend. Would you...erm...like to go with us?”

Harry closed his eyes and thought a moment. Looking over at her, he said quietly, “I’m not sure if I’m ready for that, Hermione.”

She lowered her head and barely nodded.

“But thank you,” Harry said politely. “Maybe…another time?” he offered.

The young witch looked up and smiled softly. “Any time you’re ready, Harry. We’ll be here for you.”

She saw the way Harry flinch and instantly regretted her last words. Ron stepped in, changing the subject, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Harry. You were brilliant during practice! We’re sure to win against Slytherin Saturday!”

Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table. His eyes fell on Malfoy. He was smirking at him and Harry’s anger came rushing back. “Yes, we will,” he said, sneering at the blond.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Harry returned to his ‘prison’ – as he calls it now – he told Severus that he refuses to sleep in the same room with him, let alone the same bed. They argued back and forth for several minutes. Harry finally won. He’d sleep on the sofa.

Days went by slowly for Harry but his anger never faltered. He paid less attention in class and his grades started to slip. He was even scolded by Professor McGonagall for not bringing his _wand_ to class. It wasn’t that Harry forgot, he just felt less and less attached to it. And frankly, he didn’t care. In fact, Harry no longer cared about anything anymore. Not even Quidditch. Gryffindor lost to Slytherin 250 to 10. It was their worst game ever.

Harry slept more, taking naps after classes, ate less and barely spoke to anyone. Especially Snape. And Snape strangely enough, never tried to force him.

On the following Sunday, Harry headed back to his prison after a long, restful nap under his tree. He rounded the corner and stopped suddenly, hearing two familiar voices.

“What’s going on, Severus?” A low voice answered Albus. “I know it’s hard on you, but remember it’s hard on him, as well.” The low voice replied again. “You know as well as I do that I cannot change the Ministry’s decision. You have to be the one to help him. _You_ have to take responsibility. It’s all up to you.”

Harry moved closer.

“I did not want this responsibility, Albus. He won't listen to me.”

_‘What?’_ Harry’s mind screamed. _‘What the hell?’_

Dumbledore sighed. “Severus, if you don’t take care of this, I will.”

Harry could feel the heat rising from his husband. “I will take care of it.”

“I mean it, Severus,” Albus warned.

Silence.

Harry heard the sounds of fabric rustling and quickly hid in the shadows. He waited long enough for Dumbledore to be long gone and then heard the sound of a door being closed. Taking a few deep breaths, Harry stepped inside. Snape was not there. Suddenly, there was a loud knock and Harry jumped. Opening the door slowly, Professor McGonagall stood there with a stern expression.

“May I come in, Harry?” she said in a gruff voice.

Harry grit his teeth and motioned with his arms.

“He’s not here,” he said flatly as she walked passed him.

Stopping halfway in the room, she turned to face Harry.

“Actually I’m here to speak to you, Harry.”

The younger wizard braced himself for the worst. He waited.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to answer, Minerva began. “Frankly, I’m concerned about you.”

“Professor, forgive me, but we already had this discussion a few day ago,” he said slowly, careful not to raise his voice.

“I’m here as your friend, Harry. Not as your teacher.”

Harry inhaled deeply and briefly closed his eyes. “There's nothing further to talk about,” he said firmly, hoping that that would be the end of the discussion, but knew in his heart it wasn’t. “Now would you please excuse me, but I have things to do,” he said turning away.

“Like what, Harry?” Snape asked from the back of the room.

His young husband whipped around. “Where the hell did you come from?” he exclaimed.

“You haven’t done anything lately. So what is so important that demands your attention _now_?” Severus said dryly.

“What’s it to you?” he snapped then turned to Minerva. “And you? Why do you two care what I do?”

“Harry, we _do_ care. Obviously, you do not,” Snape added sarcastically.

“You’re right. I don’t. Why should I?” Harry spat.

“Harry, your grades are suffering. If this keeps up, you will fail all your classes and you’ll leave school with nothing. Is that really what you want?” McGonagall inquired.

The younger wizard began pacing. “So this is what's all this is about. My grades? I knew it! You don’t give a fuck about me!”

“Harry,” the older witch warned, referring to his language.

“That’s all I’m good for, isn’t it? Graduating and defeating Voldemort!”

“Stop with the dramatics, Potter. Frankly, I'm tired of it,” Snape said, exhaling in exasperation.

“Oh, its Potter now, is it?” Harry snapped.

“Potter,” Minerva began, trying to made her voice calm. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Why would you risk…”

“ _My_ life? This not my life. I did not choose this life. I…”

“Enough!” Snape shouted. He took a deep breath then turned to McGonagall. “Minerva, would you please excuse us?”

Not adverting her glare from Harry, she replied sharply, “Yes, of course.”

She left briskly, leaving the couple alone with their private battle. Now Severus began to pace.

“Do you think that the whole world revolves around you? Do you think you're the only one who’s suffering?”

“I heard,” he replied bitterly.

Snape spun around. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard,” Harry repeated. “You and Dumbledore. Just a few minutes ago.”

Severus slowly approached him. “And what, pray tell, did you hear?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Harry sensed that he was suddenly nervous. He smirked at the fact that he had the upper hand.

“What responsibility do you have? What exactly do you have to take care of?”

Snape looked away, focusing on the fireplace and sighed. “Have you noticed a change in your magic?”

“What? What does that have to do with…”

He snapped his head back over to Harry. “Just answer the question!”

Harry thought a moment. “So what if I have?”

“Damn it,” Snape muttered.

“You fucking prick! You said you wouldn’t keep anything from me, you fucking liar!”

Severus clenched his jaw and walked around the couch he’d been standing by and stood in front of him.

“Do you really want know the truth?” he hissed.

“Just tell me! And tell me everything!”

“The truth is that we will slowly lose our magic if we do not continue to…”

“Fuck?” Harry yelled almost hysterically.

“Yes,” Snape growled.

Harry's mouth fell open. “You said…”

“I _know_ what I said,” he bit back. “Do you think I like this anymore than you do?”

Harry stepped closer and leaned his face in. “Yes, I do,” he challenged. “I bet you’re loving this.”

Severus and Harry locked gazes.

“You fucking bastard.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry couldn’t sleep that night. He stared absently at the wall the entire time. Snape was gentle, taking extra care in Harry’s comfort. It wasn’t rushed nor was it painful. But it still was humiliating. Like before, Harry didn’t come. And again, Harry didn’t even get an erection. He sighed when he felt the bed shift.

“Harry,” Severus said softly, turning on his side. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I just… I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted…” Harry cringed. “I meant what I said before. You can do anything you want. _Anything_.” He paused briefly. “Harry, I don’t _want_ you to change. I do care about you and I care about what happens to you.

“I know this is not easy for you. I know that. But I’m here to help you.” Severus paused again. “Harry,” he whispered. “Please don’t give up.”

Harry remained quiet, but froze when a warm body slid up next him and pulled him close.

“Please, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and tears silently fell.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	17. Chapter Seventeen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Seventeen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus woke up to find himself on his side with his chest pressed up against his husband’s back and his arm lazily draped over his waist. The young man’s breathing sounded normal so he guessed he was already awake. Severus began to slowly stroke Harry’s side; beginning with his shoulder then down his leg as far as his arm would go, and then back up again. He slid his hand to the boy’s front and rubbed circles on his stomach, before moving slowly to his chest. Harry was thin and he could feel his ribs. He would try to get him to eat more.

Severus ran his fingers lower until they were touching Harry’s genitals. Unsurprisingly, they were soft. He cupped the balls gently, massaging them. He moved his hand so he could get a better grasp of Harry’s flaccid member. Up and down he went with the slightest pressure. Nothing. The boy didn’t even have a morning erection. Sighing loudly, he rolled onto his back and lifted himself off the bed. He walked into the bathroom to relieve himself, and when he returned, he stopped short in the centre of the room. Harry was sitting up with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed with his hands folded loosely on his lap. His head was lowered and he was apparently staring at the floor. Severus watched him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he should to talk to him.

“Harry,” he said quietly.

Harry didn’t acknowledge him. Severus sighed to himself. No, if he wanted him to respond he’d have to sit next to him. He sat down carefully and placed his right hand on Harry’s thigh. The young man moved only his eyes to the pale hand.

“Harry,” he tried again. “I wish there was something I could do.”

They both knew that Severus was referring to Harry’s lack of excitement.

“Harry.”

Snape lightly touched his cheek to turn his head towards him but Harry tilted his head away. Severus withdrew his hand and placed it back onto Harry’s leg.

“Just let me try,” he whispered.

He lowered himself to the ground and gingerly pulled Harry’s legs apart. The young man leaned back till he was lying down and focused in on the ceiling with his arms limply at his sides. Severus looked at him as he did this and frowned sadly. He was determined though and that feeling was just getting stronger everyday.

Severus caressed his husband’s thighs lightly before slowly leaning over to rain kisses over his belly. He followed the thin trail of hair downwards, kissing and licking until hovering over his main goal. As before, it was unresponsive, but that didn’t detour him from stroking it tenderly or licking the soften flesh. After several minutes had gone by with still no response, Severus glanced up to look at him. Harry had his eyes closed now and his face was completely relaxed. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that the boy was asleep. When Severus sat back on his haunches, Harry rolled over and slid down till his knees hit the floor.

Snape was shocked at the way his young husband calmly went into position, presenting his arse so willingly. Harry rested his head on his folded arms and waited. Severus blinked and his mouth fell open. He abruptly stood up and glared at the kneeling boy. He took a step back and turned towards the bathroom, but stopped short and angrily spun back around. Harry was sitting on the floor with his legs to the side, head lowered. Severus gritted his teeth and folded his arms over chest.

“You know this isn’t just about me,” he said in a stern voice. “I’d like to be able to please my husband.”

There was no response, so Severus turned back to the bathroom.

“Why is that so important to you?”

It was barely a whisper, but Snape had heard it.

“What?” he replied, with a frustrated scowl. 

Harry didn’t look up. “I mean you got everything you wanted, so why does it matter?”

Snape quickly responded. “I did _not_ get everything I wanted.”

Harry quietly sighed. “Yes, you did. You wanted me to fulfill your Life-Debt and you got it. You wanted me to marry you and you got it. You wanted a wedding and you got it. You wanted to fuck me and you got it.” He paused briefly then continued. “This isn’t about me. It’s about what you want. You never once considered what I wanted.”

The harsh words hit Severus hard. He opened his mouth to argue, but he could only stand there and watch Harry staring absently at the floor. Unable to speak, Snape turned and slammed the bathroom door. Harry sighed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry made an appearance at the Gryffindor table for breakfast and sat quietly nibbling on a piece of bacon. He said nothing, merely nodding, shaking his head every once in a while, or shrugging at the few questions he was asked. His two best friends could tell Harry wanted to be left alone for the time being, so they reluctantly complied. There would be enough time later when no one else was around.

After Transfigurations, Professor McGonagall had Harry stay after class. He kept his eyes focused downward.

“Harry,” she began. “I want to apologise for my behaviour yesterday.” Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “I shouldn’t have been so abrupt with you.”

Her young student nodded again. “I’m sorry I was so rude,” he said softly. He thought he heard her sigh.

“Harry, I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but everyone does care about you.” Harry grimaced. “I know this is a hard time for you, but I want you to know that I’m here for you if should you need anything.”

Harry nodded again. “Thank you, Professor.”

She exhaled loudly. “Harry, you are allowed to call me…” She stopped when she saw Harry’s face tighten. She let it go. “You may go now, Harry.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Harry went through the rest of the day, trying to look interested in each one of his lessons, but he hadn’t fooled anyone… it was obvious to everyone that he was miserable. He remained silent and never quite made eye contact, even when he was directly spoken to. The only time he really looked happy was when he knew the day was finally coming to an end.

That evening Harry sat at his new desk going through all the notes Hermione had given him for all the assignments he had missed. He was halfway done when Snape walked in. Harry didn’t even bother to look up. He could sense that Snape wanted to say something to him but instead his husband only poured himself a drink and sat down in front of the fireplace. That night, Severus never laid a hand on him.

A few nights went by before Snape tried again but to no avail. He had decided that if he could not please Harry, he would stop altogether.

The sex had stopped.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As the week pressed on, Harry felt a slight change within himself. It started as a dull thud in his head and then progressed to his stomach. He hid his discomfort rather well, but he knew he was being watched more intently. Harry began to wonder if this was the effect of the two powers combining.

But was it supposed to hurt?

The days slowly turned into weeks and Severus still hadn’t tried to touch him. That gave Harry _some_ relief. At the end of the second week, the pain in his abdomen had intensified and it was becoming much harder to conceal. He used a mild spell on his trousers to loosen the waistband, but it didn’t help. One day in the double Potion Class, Harry took a chance and glanced up a few times to his husband.

Severus was sweating mildly and it became clear to Harry that he was in some sort of discomfort, as well. Harry surprised himself when he found himself actually concerned for his older husband. He was snapped out of his thoughts however, when Snape yelled at Neville Longbottom. The young wizard was visibly shaking and this seemed to anger Severus even more. Hermione quickly spoke up in defense of her terrified classmate and he turned his anger towards her.

The young witch gasped and Ron immediately stood and screamed at the Potions master, earning himself a week’s detention…along with Neville and Hermione. The tension in the room instantly became unbearable and would’ve exploded had it not been for a loud bellow at the back of the classroom.

“Professor Snape!” It was Professor Dumbledore. “Please see me in my office. _Now_.”

Severus remained where he was, eyes locked on a certain redhead.

“Now!”

Finally tearing away his hateful glare, he stormed passed Albus and out of the classroom. Harry felt all the accusing eyes boring into him as if it was his fault.

Perhaps it was.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape stopped in front of Dumbledore’s desk, folding his arms defiantly.

“Severus,” Albus began in a no-nonsense voice. “You will tell me exactly what's going on.”

The Potions master said nothing and kept his eyes narrowed.

“Severus,” he warned.

“There’s nothing going on,” he replied flatly.

Albus peered over his moon glasses and arched an eyebrow. Snape remained quiet. Dumbledore exhaled loudly.

“Severus,” he said calmly. “There have been some obvious changes in your behaviour and in young Harry’s. Now, are you going to tell me or do I have to resort to other methods?”

The younger wizard clenched his teeth.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry stood in front of an open window watching the sun slip behind a few dark clouds. Taking in the beauty, his expression relaxed slightly. Suddenly, Harry gasped sharply and dropped down on one knee, clutching his side. The pain had returned in full force. He struggled for breath but his lungs felt constricted. Saliva dripped onto the floor and Harry closed his eyes, trying desperately to inhale. One hand fell to the ground, catching himself before he collapsed. Harry finally was able to take in a large panicking breath which was followed immediately by a head rush.

Harry bent over and tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t faint. He sighed deeply and he could now feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Harry turned sideways and rested against the castle wall. What had just happened? And why? 

But inwardly, Harry knew _exactly_ what was happening to him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Severus, stop pacing at once,” Dumbledore ordered.

Professor Snape stopped immediately with his back to him.

“Our powers are diminishing, Albus,” he sighed.

“What?” He paused for a second. “Severus, if I find out that you are forcing that boy…” 

Severus spun around. “Why Dumbledore, you were more than willing to encourage that act on the eve of our marriage, why be so noble now?”

Dumbledore actually had the decency to look embarrassed. “We both know the importance of that one night, Severus, as well as the time constrictions. However, for me to encourage it after the bond …”

“I am _not_ a rapist!”

“I apologise, Severus,” he said quietly, but Snape glared at him. Albus sighed. “I did not mean to imply that you were.” He paused. “But you know that in order for the bonding to begin, both partners must be willing,” he stated calmly.

“I know that, Albus,” he spat. “Don’t you think I know that?”

Dumbledore nodded and lowered his gaze to his desk. “Then what’s causing this?”

There was a long pause…long enough to make Albus look up at him. “Severus?” No reply. “There’s something that you're not telling me.”

The Potions master nodded.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Professor McGonagall found Harry still leaning on the wall.

“Harry, Albus needs to speak with you.”

The young wizard winced. Of course he does. Harry rose to his feet and followed her to Dumbledore's office.

“Red lollypops.”

Minerva motioned up the stairs and Harry climbed, not even noticing that the older witch was not behind him. He sighed loudly then knocked on the heavy doors.

“Enter, Harry,” came Albus’ voice.

Severus was sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk, arms folded. This was going to be bad. Dumbledore waved him forward and Harry timidly approached.

“Yes, sir? You wanted to see me?” he asked, shooting a glance in Snape's direction.

“Yes, Harry. Please sit down.”

Bad indeed.

“Harry, Severus has just been telling me about the …unusual situation the two of you are in.”

“Sir?” he said narrowing his eyes.

Albus looked at him questioningly before continuing. “He tells me that you are having difficulty in…” he stopped. How was he going to phrase this?

A look of comprehension covered Harry’s features. He knew what this was about. He spun around to Snape.

“You told him?” Harry shouted and Severus flinched. “You told him?” he screamed louder. “How could you? You told me not to tell anyone but it’s okay for _you_ to do it? And to _him_ of all people?” he snapped, pointing to Albus.

Snape pressed his lips into a tight thin line.

“Harry,” Dumbledore warned.

“What?” he spat.

Ignoring the boy’s lack of respect, he said calmly, “Harry, he only told me because I demanded that he did so. I only want to help you.”

“What?” Harry sputtered. “Help me? _Help_ me? Ha! What a lie! Where the hell was your help at the trial?” Albus blanched. “Where was your help at the wedding?” He took a step forward and leaned over; fingers sprawled out on top of Dumbledore's desk. “And where the hell was your help on the wedding night?” he hissed.

“I…I...”

“You what?” Harry demanded.

No answer. He scoffed loudly and stood up straight. He glared between the two men.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” And with that, he turned around on his heel.

“Harry!” they both yelled, standing up.

Suddenly, the young wizard cried out as he doubled over. He collapsed to the floor with a thud.

“Harry!”

They rushed over to the unconscious boy.

“Get him to the infirmary!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	18. Chapter Eighteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Eighteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It had been nearly an hour since Healer Alexander Graham arrived from St Mungo’s. He was a specialist in complex spells and unknown physical and psychological behaviours of wizards and witches. Madam Pomfrey had called him in when she was unable to diagnose Harry properly. Or at least get another opinion of her findings. Either reason mattered not to Harry’s two best friends or to his husband. The three of them waited impatiently outside of the infirmary.

Severus paced back and forth whilst Ron and Hermione sat nearby holding each other tightly. The young witch buried her face into the redhead's robes and Ron glared at Snape with an I-know-it's-your-fault expression. The three jumped when Professor Albus Dumbledore walked through the infirmary doors.

“Well?” they said together.

“Harry is stable now; however he did give us quite a scare.” Directing his attention to Severus, “You may go in now.”

“Professor Dumbledore, please tell us what’s happening,” Hermione pleaded quietly.

Albus didn’t bother looking at Snape for approval. “Yes, of course, Miss Granger. Shall we?” he said, pointing in the direction of his office.

The two nodded and followed him, keeping up with the older wizard’s long strides. Severus watched them briefly, then took a deep breath before entering the room where his young husband was kept. He nervously looked around and noticed that for once the infirmary was vacant, save a drawn curtain around a single bed. Madam Pomfrey and Healer Graham were whispering amongst themselves, but stopped short when they spotted him. They motioned him forward.

There, lying still on the bed, was Harry Potter. He looked frail and his skin was almost white. Severus gasped softly and forced the tears back.

“Is he…?”

“He is alive, Professor Potter. However, he has slipped into what is called, in muggle terms, a coma.” Snape had heard of that before. “His mind has shut down because of his physical condition,” Healer Graham explained further.

“Physical condition?” Severus asked curiously.

Poppy and Alexander exchanged worried looks.

“Yes, Severus. Perhaps it would be best if you were to see for yourself,” she said.

As she reached for the sheet, Healer Graham stopped her and shook his head. He turned to Severus.

“Professor, may I have a word with you first?”

Severus nodded and Healer Graham gestured to the other side of the room. Looking over his shoulder, Snape watched as Harry’s chest barely moved.

“I need to ask you a few personal questions…may I call you Severus?” 

“Yes, of course,” he replied, still focused on his unconscious husband.

“Thank you, Severus. And you may call me Alexander.” He sighed deeply before continuing. “Has Harry ever ejaculated since you’ve been married?”

“What?” Snape cried, shocked that this man could ask such a question.

“I assure you that it is a relevant question.”

Severus gritted his teeth. “To my knowledge, no.”

“Ever? Alone perhaps?”

“Again, not to my knowledge,” he growled.

Alexander nodded. “I thought not.” He paused. “Do you know if he has _ever_ done so?”

“He is a young man. I would assume so.”

“Professor Potter, your husband’s body is responding to his resistance. If that’s what it is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“As you are aware, a human must eliminate certain bodily functions to produce new ones in its place.”

“I know that,” Severus snapped.

Healer Graham nodded. “Harry’s body is suffering because, for whatever reason, he has not been able to do so.”

“I have _not_ prevented him in any way, shape, or…”

The older wizard waved his hand dismissively. “I am not suggesting that at all. I am merely stating my diagnosis.”

Severus looked back at Harry. “Do you know why this is happening to him?”

“Well, there is no indication that this was induced by a spell nor a potion.”

“What about...”

“No, _He_ is not involved. I would have sensed a dark power illuminating from him if that were the case.” Alexander paused as he thought a moment. “Do you have any theories, Severus?”

The Potions master shook his head numbly. “No,” he whispered. In fact, Snape didn’t just have a theory; he _knew_ what was going on.

“Perhaps it will help if you examined him yourself.”

Severus nodded.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Professor Dumbledore calmly explained Harry’s condition to Hermione and Ron. Ron looked absolutely appalled, but the young witch was completely enthralled by this new information. That did not surprise Albus at all. When he had finished, the young redheaded wizard looked as if he just sucked on a lemon, and Hermione’s mind was reeling with questions.

“Does anyone know why this is happening?” she asked finally.

“No, Miss Granger. We can only second-guess, and what we _have_ thought of seems highly unlikely.”

Hermione nodded, pursing her lips, thinking hard. “It’s not You-Know-Who,” she said, talking out loud to herself. “It’s not a potion or a dark spell.”

“Hermione! Do you understand what he just said?” Ron exclaimed. “Harry can't... I mean he’s unable to…”

Hermione didn’t look at her friend. “Yes, yes, Ron. I heard. Now shush. I’m thinking.”

Albus tried not to smile. The young witch stood and began pacing, whispering and looking at nothing except space.

“Well, it can't be that. And it isn’t this…”

“Hermione!”

She spun around. “Ron! Quiet! I said I’m _thinking_ ,” she hissed. She walked aimlessly around Dumbledore’s office again before spinning around, eyes wide. “The Life-Debt!” she cried. “What about the Life-Debt?”

Albus furrowed his brows. “It is possible, but doubtful.”

“Hmm.” Hermione rubbed her chin. “The marriage contract?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t think either one would have such a specific personal detail as that.”

“Humph,” she said, fists on her hips. She stormed away. Suddenly, Hermione flung her arms in the air. “Of course!” she cried out. She wheeled back around. “Harry’s vows!”

Albus sat back in his chair and smiled. Leave it to Hermione Granger to solve the puzzle.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus stood over Harry, looking down with a sudden dread. He didn’t want to look, but he had to. He _had_ to.

“I warn you, Severus,” Madam Pomfrey began softly, but Snape had already reached for the sheet.

He closed his eyes as he pulled it back and heard Poppy and Alexander walk away as he did so. He slowly opened his eyes. The first thing Severus noticed was that Harry's wrists and ankles were secured to the bed frame. He looked up at the two of them in horror.

“He was subconsciously hurting himself,” Healer Graham stated simply.

Eyes still open in shock, Severus looked back down. The next thing he noticed was a large lump under Harry’s nightgown, directly between his legs. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes again as he lifted the thin material, pulling it up to the boy’s stomach. Severus willed himself to look. Lying in the middle of his husband’s legs was a large, swollen piece of flesh that had once been Harry’s normal-sized testicles.

“No,” Severus whispered disbelievingly. “No!” he shouted at the two of them. “It can't be!”

Madam Pomfrey and Healer Graham sighed loudly. They could only nod their confirmation.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“I have to go to the library! To the Restricted Section!” Hermione yelled, walking to the door but suddenly stopped short. She turned back to Albus, looking hopeful.

“I will have a permission note waiting for you, Miss Granger,” he smiled, nodding.

“Thank you, Professor. Oh wait. I need to know exactly what he said, sir.”

“I’m afraid only Professor Snape…Professor _Potter_ …can make that decision as to whether or not you are allowed to know that information.”

“But, Professor, Harry’s life…”

“It _is_ a very private vow, Miss Granger, surely you are aware of that.”

Hermione folded her arms in frustration and looked down.

“However, I don’t think it would hurt to find a solution for a _generalised_ vow made on a wedding day.”

She looked up at him and beamed.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Ron finally spoke. “Are you in league with Snape?”

“Ron!”

“What?” the redhead snapped. “You want to know as much as I do!”

Hermione bit her lower lip and looked away. Ron’s eyes narrowed at Albus, waiting for an answer.

“Mr Weasley, I do not understand your question,” Albus said calmly.

“Did you and Snape plan this farce of a wedding just for the purpose of using Harry against You-Know-Who?”

Dumbledore gave a thoughtful nod. “I can understand why the two of you might think that,” he said. “But no. The Life-Debt and the marriage contract were devised by Severus alone.” He glanced back and forth between the pair of skeptical eyes. “I admit that once I found out the conditions, the circumstances _and_ the dangers involved by of not sealing the agreement, I did intervene.”

“How?” Hermione whispered.

Albus sighed. “You must understand. The closure of the bond had to take place before a certain time lest serious consequences would occur. Both of their lives would have been in danger.”

“What _kind_ of closure?” Ron demanded.

Dumbledore raised a knowing eyebrow.

“Damn it!” Ron spat, jumping up. “And just _how_ did you intervene? Did you _force_ them?”

“Ron!”

Albus remained calm, but fully annoyed. “Certainly not, Mr Weasley. I simply made it very clear to Severus that he _must_ fulfill the requirement or I would step in. It was his responsibility. Not mine.”

Ron and Hermione walked over and hugged each other tightly.

“Severus brought this upon himself. However…as you know, he had no choice in the matter. He couldn’t change it, like he wanted to. Remember, that’s why there was a trial,” he added.

“Then he shouldn’t have asked for it to _begin_ with,” Ron murmured over Hermione’s shoulder. “Besides, he _did_ have a choice. It was Harry who didn’t.” 

Albus sat back and sighed. “I know.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Hermione!” Ron yelled after her as she walked as fast as she could to the Restricted Section. “Hermione!” he tried again, this time loud enough to echo in the corridors.

The young witch spun around on the balls of her feet and met him head on.

“Ronald Weasley,” she hissed softly. “From the very beginning, I have felt completely powerless and unable to do _anything_ to help Harry.” She paused to catch her breath. “Our friend is lying unconscious in a hospital bed and now I have a chance to do something about it! So what, _Ronald_ , is so bloody important that it cannot wait?”

The redhead blinked several times. It was the first time he had heard her curse. “I…”

Hermione made an exasperating scoff and turned. Ron caught her arm.

“Wait wait wait,” he said, panicking. She jerked her arm away and glared. “Look, I want to help Harry too, but it just doesn’t make _sense_.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest. “And just what is it that you're confused about, Ron? The fact that he is unconscious or the fact that he is unable to get an erection?” she retorted sharply. Ron’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh grow up, Ronald.”

The young wizard’s face flushed red with anger. “I meant,” he started slowly. “that it doesn’t make sense that there is a way to change Harry’s vow,” he bit out.

Hermione’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Of course there's a way. You heard Dumbledore. He said…”

“Hermione, you weren’t able to change the Life-Debt to a bonding,” he pointed out. She started to shake. “Oh, Hermione. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” She squeezed her arms together and looked away. “Hermione, please. I’m so sorry.”

He cupped her face and turned her head to look at him. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

“Remember, Hermione. Snape couldn’t change it either,” he softly reminded her. “And it was _his_ Life-Debt.”

“I know,” she whispered, barely nodding. “But, Ron. If there's a chance…”

The redhead’s face softened and smiled. “And you're smart enough to find it.”

Hermione flung her arms around him and he pulled her in for a reassuring hug.

“Thank you, Ron,” she whispered into his neck.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Severus?” Dumbledore said, startling the seated man in the process.

“Albus,” he acknowledged briskly.

“I spoke with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger just now and…”

“What did you tell them?” Snape asked, standing abruptly.

Albus peered over his moon-shaped glasses. “I informed them of Harry’s condition, of course.”

“And? What else?”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and looked at him suspiciously. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Severus?”

“No,” Snape quickly said. A little _too_ quickly. 

Albus continued to watch him, but Severus kept his head held high in defiance.

“Very well. It seems that Miss Granger believes that Harry’s condition is the result of his marriage vows.” Severus’s face turned somber. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?” Albus stated.

“As did you,” Snape retorted.

“I presumed that a skillful wizard, such as yourself, would have been able to take care of that matter on your own.”

Snape folded his arms and turned away. “I thought I could.” He looked over his shoulder. “Obviously, I was wrong,” he said flatly.

Albus softly sighed. He knew that it was hard to admit defeat. “I have given Miss Granger access to the Restricted Section, unless, of course, you already know what needs to be done.”

“I thought I made that part very clear, Albus,” Severus said bitterly.

Dumbledore nodded. “Should we inform Healer Graham and Poppy what we suspect?”

Severus slowly shook his head. “No. Not just yet. I have confidence that Miss Granger will come up with some sort of a solution.”

“Perhaps _you’d_ like to research…”

“No. My place is with my husband,” Severus whispered, sitting back down next to Harry’s bed and taking his cold hand in his.

“Of course. I will keep you updated.”

“Thank you, Albus.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Four hours passed before Hermione Granger ran into Dumbledore's office, beaming with pride. She quickly rattled on about what she had learned, and continued speaking all the way down to the infirmary. Albus finally silenced her with a wave of his hand when they entered the quiet area.

“Severus?” he whispered, but loud enough to wake Snape who had fallen asleep at Harry’s side. “Miss Granger is here with a possible solution.”

Snape stood and followed the two of them to the far wall, rubbing his cricked neck. “Hermione?”

Hermione smiled. “Well,” she began. “The vows made at the time of the wedding ceremony are unbreakable unless the marriage terminates by divorce or death.”

“Yes, we know that already,” Severus said flatly.

The young witch frowned and looked away, disappointed.

“I apologise, Hermione. Please continue,” Severus said with complete sincerity.

She sheepishly looked at him and nodded her thanks. “Um, anyway, the only way to reverse what was said is to reinstate the vows and thereby retract the original.”

Severus raised a curious eyebrow. “You mean,” he started.

“Yes. Harry must change his vow. It’s the only way to undo the binding.”

“There is, however, a small matter to consider,” Healer Graham said, appearing suddenly.

Hermione, Albus and Severus turned to look at him.

“The person needs to be conscious.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	19. Chapter Nineteen

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Nineteen**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Hermione immediately left the infirmary to send an owl to her parents to obtain any information on comas, and what was the best method to wake people up from one. Healer Graham and Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office to see if there was another solution to relieve Harry’s dilemma, and to debate whether changing the vows would be successful.

Albus and Severus decided to go back to Dumbledore's office to recall the exact words Harry had used in his vows by using Dumbledore’s Pensieve, and Snape’s memories of the ceremony. As they walked away from the infirmary, a dark figure emerged out of the shadows. He watched the two until they were completely out of sight before creeping into the quiet room. He carefully scanned the room, making sure no one else was around. It was empty except for a lone figure on the bed. Only the swish of his robes made noise as made his way to Harry Potter's bed. Draco Malfoy looked down, smirked and shook his head.

“Well, well, Potter. Look at you now.” he scoffed. “Is this what you wanted? To be lying in the infirmary? Have you just given up, Potter? Is that it? Famous Harry Potter can't deal with something as trivial as a forced marriage, so he just lies down to die? What the hell kind of Gryffindor are you? A coward?” Draco stopped a moment then leaned down, his breath tickling Harry’s ear. “And here I thought you were smarter than that. Seems I’ve misjudged you.”

“Mr Malfoy!” Madam Pomfrey snapped, raising her voice. “What are you doing here? You are not allowed to be here! Now out!”

The blond glanced over his shoulder, smirked and shrugged with indifference. Poppy abruptly escorted Draco to the door, and watched as he retreated. She wanted to make sure he was truly gone before turning back to check up on Harry. Something was now different about him. His head was lying on its side. She leaned over to take a closer look at his face. His eyes were closed, but he was in fact… crying. Poppy gasped and ran over to the fireplace.

“Albus! Severus! He’s awake! Potter's awake!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Time was of the essence so both wizards Floo’d to the infirmary and rushed over to Harry’s bed. He was still deathly pale and his eyes were still closed.

“Harry?” Severus whispered.

The young wizard made no attempt to move. Snape touched his hand and Harry suddenly flinched. Yes, he was indeed awake.

“Harry?” he tried again.

A low and gruff sounding voice whispered, “Go away.”

Madam Pomfrey quickly stepped in. “The boy needs rest. I will call you when he’s strong enough.”

Snape scowled but reluctantly nodded. At least Harry was out of danger. This particular time anyway. As soon as Severus and Albus left the room, Poppy turned back to Harry.

“Potter, this is Healer Graham. He’s from St Mungo’s and he’s here to help you.”

“Hello, Mr Potter. Glad to see you're all right,” he said kindly.

Harry turned his face to look at him. “Was it you?” he said hoarsely.

Healer Graham furrowed his brows. “Sorry?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Just a minute ago. Were you the one speaking to me?”

Alexander and Poppy exchanged looks. She sighed. “No Potter, it wasn’t. It was…”

“I know who it was,” he interrupted, more to himself than to them.

“Do you remember what he said to you, Potter?” Madam Pomfrey inquired.

Harry turned his head away and stared at the hanging curtain that still surrounded his bed. He didn’t answer. Annoyed with the lingering silence, she opened her mouth to speak, but Harry finally spoke up.

“No.” His voice was cold and empty.

There was a small pause before Poppy asked, “Do you at least remember your dreams?”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. Dreams. Yes, he remembered the dreams. _Nightmares_ to be precise. Always the same. Snape. Dumbledore. And his two best friends. Always there smothering him. Giving him unwanted comfort. But there was one other who was there, as well. Draco Malfoy. It seemed like the blond was always there, hovering over him, making him feel so small. Yes, he remembered his dreams. Every last one of them.

“No,” he replied distantly.

“At all?” Healer Graham asked.

“No,” Harry repeated firmly.

“The reason we are so concerned is because you were…”

“AAAH!” Harry screamed and doubled over in an attempt to curl up his body, but his hands wouldn’t move. “Let me go!” he cried, shaking his confined arms and legs.

“Mr Potter, you were trying to injure yourself while you were sleeping,” Healer Graham explained, raising his voice loud enough so that Harry could hear him.

“I don’t care! Let me go!”

Against their better judgement, the restraints were removed and instantly Harry’s hands went in between his legs, holding on to the source of his pain. He coiled up into a foetal position and his face started to turn red, a vein stood erect and angry on his neck. His screams of agony were muffled in his throat, causing his face to turn a deeper shade of red.

“Potter! Breathe, you foolish child!”

Harry shook his head frantically. Unable to retain his breath any longer, he took a large gasp of air. His cry filled the infirmary and echoed out into the corridors.

Harry Potter fainted.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_“I, Harry James Potter, promise you, Severus Snape, to never forget this day or what you’ve taken away from me. Therefore, I shall now take away from you. From this day forward I am no longer the Harry Potter that you or anyone else knows, for he no longer exists. In his place, you have created a new Harry Potter, which stands before you now._

_I hate you. I have always hated you and now my hatred for you will only continue to grow and will not end until one of us dies. You have done nothing but lie to me since the first day I met you and you still continue to lie. I will never trust you or your promises you speak of. I offer you nothing except my name and my body of which I do not willingly give. You speak of your desires, but know this: I will never desire you. Ever. Because of this contract, you are allowed to take your pleasure by using me as a vessel, but as long as we are married, there is nothing you will be able to do or say to me that will arouse me, entice me, please me or satisfy me, for those desires within me no longer exist.”_

Albus Dumbledore and Severus Potter exchanged a quick glance, and then both retreated into a long and an uncomfortable silence.

Finally, “Do you think he will?”

“I honestly don’t know, Severus.”

Healer Graham cleared his throat and the two wizards turned around to see him and Madam Pomfrey standing outside Dumbledore's door.

“He’s getting worse, Professor.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_“I want to thank you, Harry.”_

The Boy-Who-Lived jumped and his eyes opened wide, staring at nothing save blackness. He knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted many of his dreams. Harry shivered and pulled his legs to his chest tight. He pushed himself further back into the corner he was sitting in.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

_“Merely to say thank you, of course. I’ve been waiting patiently for this moment and I knew you wouldn’t fail me.”_

Harry shivered again. “Go away.” His voice was getting weaker.

_“You needn’t worry about me, Harry. It will be over soon enough and you’ll be able to see your parents again,”_ the ethereal voice said in a mocking tone, as though it were talking to a child.

“Then go away,” Harry whispered, laying his head on top of his knees. He could barely breathe.

_“No, I don’t think so. I want to stay and witness the demise of Harry Potter.”_

Suddenly, a bolt of light pierced through the darkness.

“GET OUT!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry gasped deeply. It felt like he had been deprived of air for hours. His eyes quickly darted around the room. Standing next to his bed was three very concerned wizards and one horrified witch.

“Why didn’t you tell me that _He_ was in yours dreams?” Severus demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“This was the… he’s never…” Harry wheezed.

“Mr Potter, I will be honest with you,” Healer Graham interrupted. “Your life is in grave danger. If you do not act immediately, you will die,” he stated firmly.

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to die. Not like this anyway. “What must I do?” he whispered.

A sense of relief filled the air.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Is everything prepared?” Albus asked Poppy.

“Yes. The room will be sealed and no one will be able to enter.”

“You do understand, Albus, that once they reinstate their vows, you must leave immediately.”

“Yes, of course, of course.”

Healer Graham nodded. “Good. Let’s begin.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry?” Severus whispered.

The young wizard lazily opened his eyes.

“Remember, you don’t have to repeat your vows. Just revoke your old one and state a new one. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said coarsely.

Snape softly smiled at him and glanced over to Healer Graham, Madam Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore. Everyone nodded. Poppy laid down a bowl of warm water and a few flannels on the bedside table along with plenty of linens.

“For how long?” Severus asked Alexander.

“You’ll know when to stop.” He looked over at Harry. “I will warn you, Mr Potter. This will be painful.”

Harry looked away and barely nodded. “I understand.”

“I must remind you that this was invoked by a magical wedding vow and this is the only way to counteract it.”

He looked back over to Healer Graham with cold eyes. “I said I understand,” he managed to croak out.

“Very well. We will be leaving now. Good luck, Severus.”

Healer Graham and Madam Pomfrey left the infirmary, leaving Snape and Dumbledore alone with Harry. Albus stood at the end of Harry’s bed and Severus took his left hand in his, joining the two wedding bands.

_“I bid you look into each other’s eyes and reinstate your wedding vows.”_

“I, Severus Snape, renew my wedding vow to you, Harry James Potter, for all that I had previously said still holds true and will always remain true.”

Harry looked up at him with a transfixed gaze and paused briefly. He had to do this.

“I, Harry James Potter, retract my previous wedding vow and impose this one in its place. I am husband to Severus Snape and as such will fulfill all the requirements and duties that a husband is required to do,” Harry conceded reluctantly.

Albus finished. _“Go now and enter into the days of your togetherness.”_

It was short and simple, but it was enough.

Instantly, Harry screamed and flew headfirst into his crotch. Dumbledore all but ran from the room.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!”

“I will, Harry. I know it’s hard, but please, just try to relax,” Snape said, with a slight panic in his voice.

Severus grabbed the blankets and yanked them down in one quick motion before taking Harry by the wrists and pulling his hands away. Severus quickly reached in between his husband’s legs and grasped the large and swollen penis, now fully erect. He closed his eyes and ignored the infliction from Harry’s nails as they dug deep into his skin.

“NO! NO!” he screamed, grabbing his arm to push it away.

“Harry, I have to. Please relax. It must be done this way and it must be done by me.”

“No,” he whimpered.

The strokes were quick and hard, and even though the binding vow was now removed, Harry still tried to resist. His mind screamed ‘Stop!’ but his body demanded release from the blazing pain. He knew no matter how relieved he was going to be rid of this all consuming pressure, it would still at the hands of his enemy. His husband. Harry wanted this to stop and stop _now_ because he secretly knew what this meant. Defeat.

Harry thrashed violently, and within only a matter of minutes, he was coming. His back arched up and his heels dug in the bed as his body turned rigid. His tearful howl sent a strong tremor up and down Snape’s spine. Instantly, Harry collapsed back down, panting heavily. 

“I…I hate…”

Severus sighed. “I know.”

Harry’s body thrusted upwards and he screamed again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was almost two hours before Severus emerged out from the infirmary. He looked tired and his robe was off, revealing a sweat-soaked shirt that clung to his chest.

“It is done.”

“Don’t worry, Severus, he’ll be fine now,” Poppy assured him.

Albus placed his hand on his shoulder. “Go and get some rest now, Severus. It’s been a trying day.”

Any other time, Snape would’ve argued. But not today.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	20. Chapter Twenty

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry awoke with a start, sitting up in the bed, head jerking side to side as his eyes searched the room. He was still in the hospital wing. His shoulders sagged and he took a deep breath. He was safe and he was still alive. And now that he thought about it, he hadn’t felt this refreshed since…since…Harry sighed again. Since before all of this mess happened. And yet it wasn’t just from a restful slumber, it was from what had occurred last night. It was last night, wasn’t it? Yes. It happened last night. He closed his eyes hoping it was only a dream, but he knew that would be a lie. Harry remembered quite vividly now.

The first time was excruciating. The second and third was not as painful, but was still just as intense. The fourth time (Harry’s hands covered his face at the memory) - the fourth, fifth and _sixth_ time - was not by a hand but by a mouth. A very talented mouth indeed. His husband had not lied, and for Harry, that made it worse than the pain.

At some point last night, Harry was hit with a powerful force. One he couldn’t name, but it wracked through his entire body like nothing he had ever felt before. A surge of power, if you will. He tried to think back on just when it was that he actually felt it. Not by the hand, he was certain of that. Not even the mouth… but _when_? Harry could feel his face burning as it finally dawned on him. It was the seventh time.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

By the sixth time, Harry’s body no longer felt any pain…far from it in fact. He was ashamed to admit to himself that everything was starting to feel good… _Really_ good. So, after catching his breath, Harry’s head lolled to the side and his body collapsed bonelessly. He honestly didn’t think he had an ounce of energy left in him. He was wrong. Harry instantly stiffened as two slightly hairy legs straddled his hips. His hands immediately clutched them in a lame attempt to push them away. His husband must have somehow taken that as an encouragement, because what happened next made Harry’s stomach clench.

Harry wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them tightly to his chest. He tried to convince himself that he hadn’t responded. That he hated it. That it was someone else – anyone else – that was on top of him. But no matter how many times he shook his head in disbelief, or rocked his body back and forth on the bed, or even grinded his teeth together till they hurt… it was indeed his _husband_ that he had fucked.

But fortunately for Harry, one thing _was_ true. He _did_ hate it. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he realised just _why_ the bonding was now complete. On that seventh time, they had an orgasm at the exact same time.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Mr Potter. Good to see you're awake. How do you feel?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Harry’s legs fell down with a jolt and looked up to the medi-witch that was standing by his bed. “I’m fine.”

Poppy scoffed. “I did not ask you how you were, Potter, I asked you how you _felt_.”

He looked down at his lap. How _did_ Harry feel? Ashamed? Embarrassed? Humiliated? He sighed. No, those feelings were now long gone and they were replaced with something else, acceptance.

“I feel fine.”

There was an intense silence. Harry slowly gazed up at her. She was livid. That wasn’t the answer that she wanted and he knew it, but it was the only answer he could give. He turned his attention somewhere else.

“Potter, I am not your friend nor am I your spouse. I am in charge of your well-being and I want to know how you are feeling,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded. “I…I feel different. Something in me has changed,” he whispered.

He glanced up at her. She was watching him intently for any further confessions, but there was none.

She nodded once. “That would be the result from the bonding, Potter. It is now complete. You will feel many things now because of this.” She paused. “If there is _any_ type of discomfort, you will inform me immediately. Understood?”

“Yes,” he answered softly.

“Good. Now,” she began, turning to leave. “You have visitors. Seeing that you are _fine_ , I will show them in.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Over the next few hours, several of his friends and classmates came and went, followed shortly by Severus. Harry had received permission to leave the infirmary and he could tell Madam Pomfrey would have preferred that he had left _hours_ ago. He followed his husband down to the dungeons and stood just outside their private quarters, waiting for his husband to open the door. Looking over Snape's shoulder, Harry could see numerous amounts of gifts in the distance sitting on the small dining table. Severus, not looking back, explained that because everyone knew how close Harry was to dying, it was their way of showing how much they cared for him and was happy to hear that he was out of danger. He flinched inwardly. Of course they were happy. The Boy-Who-Lived was still alive.

Severus took a step forward, allowing Harry enough room to move out of the way of the closing door. Once it was closed, Snape spun around, trapping Harry against it with his body. The young wizard gasped loudly.

“Harry,” Snape breathed, bending down to his neck. “Now I can finally please you.”

The man pulled back just enough to focus on the pair of bright, _horrified_ , green eyes. He smiled seductively and plunged down again to devour Harry’s throat. The young husband gasped again and instinctively tried to push him away. His eyes widened when he felt a strong hand stroking the front of his trousers.

“P-please,” Harry whimpered.

The hand pushed harder. “I’ve waited so long to do this, Harry,” he murmured. “I should be the one who is begging.”

Harry’s mouth fell open in shock. Snape had misunderstood his words. How could he be so blind as to have missed what he meant? Harry grimaced and tightened his eyes. _‘Oh, God. No.’_

Unbeknownst to Harry, he suddenly found himself on the ground, covered from head to toe by the weight of his husband, who was still biting, licking, and kissing his neck, inching down Harry’s body. When he was halfway down, Harry’s hands flew up to his face, shielding the image of this outrageous scene playing before him. How could Snape _not_ know what he was doing to him? What Harry was _feeling_?

Harry cried out when his trousers came undone and his cock – which now had a life of it’s own – sprang free. He reached down and gripped Snape's hair as a soft pair of lips slipped over his glans. He wanted to scream, to yell. _Anything_ to get this man off him.

_‘Nonononono! Stop! Stop!’_

After pulling away and licking the top, Severus whispered, “Harry, can you feel it? Can you feel our powers joining? Can you feel how much I want you? How much I _need_ you?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he engulfed all of Harry’s length and ran the flat of his tongue against the protruding vein as he pulled up. The young husband tightened his fists in the man’s hair and his torso bucked up and down in an attempt to wiggle himself free. But unfortunately, his lower half wasn’t listening. He soon felt himself on the brink of an orgasm.

“No!” Harry cried, covering his eyes.

Snape stopped and slowly slid his lips back up his shaft and then paused for a final lick. Harry felt him move away and began to shake with relief. But just as his panic lessoned, his breath hitched instantly when his trousers, pants, shoes and socks were removed and Snape climbed on top of him, positioning himself. The older wizard lowered himself, easing down slowly inch-by-inch till he was completely deluged. Harry’s head arched back and howled. Snape rested on his arms, hands on either side of his young husband’s head, and raised his hips slightly. He began increasing the pace of his assault gradually.

“Harry,” Severus panted between thrusts. “Oh, Harry,” he whispered softly, leaning over to kiss his husband’s lips.

Harry turned his head so all Snape caught was his cheek. He didn’t notice, nor did he notice the tear-streaks running down Harry’s face. Abruptly, Snape arched backwards and latched onto Harry’s thighs, speeding up his rhythm. One hand clenched around his own erection and he stroked in time with his thrusts. Harry couldn’t stop it. He knew he was coming and he. Just. Couldn’t. Stop it. And with a painful scream, he erupted with full force, not realising that his husband came, as well.

Harry’s back hit the floor and his entire body went limp. He choked on his own tears and covered his face in shame. As he cried softly, his mind scrambled with unanswered questions.

Was this it? Was this now whats to be expected of Harry as part of his _duties_ as a husband? To be used? To be fucked anytime and anywhere whenever his husband wanted to? _‘No!’_ his mind yelled over and over again.

_‘This can't be happening.’_

But it was and Harry knew that from this moment on, this was the price he had to pay.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape gingerly rolled off Harry and curled up next to him. He caressed Harry’s exposed stomach and fingered his own spunk. He bent down and ran his tongue across, gathering it all up and swallowed it. He sat up and looked down at his husband’s calm and relaxed body. His face was turned away from him however. Severus leaned over him and pulled Harry’s right palm to his mouth and softly kissed it.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Let’s take a shower.”

The older wizard stood and pulled him up to his feet and Harry allowed it. He was led into the bathroom and once there, Harry slowly began to unbutton his now-crumpled shirt, ignoring the watchful eyes of Snape. Now standing fully naked, Harry kept his eyes lowered and stepped into the steaming shower, completely aware of the presence that was following him. Harry closed his eyes again and tilted his head back, letting the warm water slide down his front. He flinched suddenly as a pair of hands began to caress his backside with a lathered flannel.

“Harry,” Severus whispered, his lips grazing Harry’s ear. “I am truly sorry for the way things have turned out.” He wrapped his arms around the young wizard and pulled him in close. “I want to spend the rest of our lives making it up to you,” he breathed in his ear, fingers curling around Harry’s spent cock.

The young wizard hung his head, not knowing it was giving Snape encouragement to nibble on his ear. Soon, tears mixed with the warm water flowing on his face as he rested his head back on the tall man’s chest.

He snapped his eyes open, blinking furiously under the spray as he heard one word being whispered to him. 

“Mine.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus stood behind his young husband, toweling him off. “Are you hungry? You must be.” Harry barely nodded. “Would you like to eat in the Great Hall?” Harry shook his head. “I’ll have Dobby get you something then. Something light perhaps?” Harry nodded again.

Severus helped Harry into a new robe that he had especially made for him. It was a brilliant red, trimmed with gold. On the right was the crest of Gryffindor and on the left had Harry’s name in large gold letters. Snape paused and furrowed his brows at his now-quiet husband. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

“Harry? Are you all right?”

Harry winced and bit back his rage. He was too tired for that and it wouldn’t do any good anyway. This is the way it is. Harry nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

“Very well. Try to eat as much as you can, Harry. Poppy has already scolded me enough for your diminished state,” he mused. “I’ll be back in a bit. That’ll give you some privacy to open your gifts.” He leaned over, rubbed Harry’s arms up and down and kissed his cheek. “I won't be gone long.”

In an instant, Dobby appeared with a bowl of broth and small pieces of cheese and bread. Harry thanked him as he sat it down in front of him. He nibbled on a few of the cheese cubes, then took a sip of the hot liquid. Harry sat the cup down and pushed it all away. He placed his head down on his arms, and wondered briefly if the marriage bond would prevent suicide. He snapped his head up at that thought.

_‘No. As much as I hate it, this is my new…life. I need to accept it or I’ll go mad.’_

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Yes, he had to accept it. What else _could_ he do? His body had already betrayed him – just like everyone else in his life had.

He leaned back in his chair, examining all the shiny packages before him. One was from Hermione and not surprisingly, it appeared to be a book – and it was of course - “The Wizard’s Guide to Passing the N.E.W.T.s”. Another was from Ron and his entire family – a year’s subscription to “Quidditch Weekly”. From his classmates were plenty of sweets from Honeydukes. And finally, Professor Dumbledore gave Harry another book – “The Intermediate Guide to Becoming an Auror”.

There were only two presents left on the table. One was large and flat from Severus and the other was a small square box with no name on it. Harry looked at it suspiciously but then decided to open his husband’s first. It was a photo album. Harry thought it was an odd gift for he already had one. Upon opening it, he noticed that it was filled with pictures of all his friends making faces at him and the rest were his teachers waving. He barely smiled, feeling a little warmth inside. He sat the dragonhide-covered album carefully aside and timidly reached for the tiny box. He wondered what could possibly be in such a small box and just _who_ had given it to him. Basically everyone he knew was already accounted for.

Curiosity finally got the better of him. Inside was a small ball with some sort of spinner in the middle. At the bottom of the container was a note. _“The arrow will spin if someone around you is lying.”_ That was it. That’s all that was written. Hearing that his husband had returned, Harry quickly tucked the ball into the pocket of his bathrobe as he was firmly pulled to his feet. He was led back into the bedroom.

Snape wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to make up to him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Days dragged into weeks and with it came a daily-established routine. In the morning Harry’s body was tenderly bathed and then he was stroked to completion. After school, before the evening meal, Severus would lay Harry down on the bed - or sometimes on the couch - and proceeded to give Harry the most intense orgasm from his talented mouth. At the end of the day, the older wizard would give him a fully body massage, worshipping his body as if it was a temple, followed of course by an hour or two of sex.

Through it all, at no time did Harry initiate it. Not once. One thing was certain, however. With each passing day, and with both wizards simultaneously having an orgasm, Harry could feel his powers grow stronger. His grades had improved considerably but not as much as they could’ve, had he been left to his own devices, and Hermione’s aggressive tutoring. Everyone took notice, but frankly Harry didn’t care at this point. He had a job to do and he was just biding his time until that moment arrived.

Harry started to realise that now that he had fully given in, everyone became ecstatic and suddenly alive around him. No one had seemed to notice the sadness coming out of his eyes, the emptiness in his voice or the lost expression he wore on his face as he stared at nothing. It really did seem as if they didn’t care how Harry was or how Harry felt so long as they had their saviour back and their hope reestablished.

No one cared. But yet there was one person who kept watching every move he made. Draco Malfoy.

Soon Harry didn’t care about that either.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	21. Chapter Twenty One

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty One**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was two days after the “incident” in the infirmary that Harry decided to rejoin his classmates in school. He couldn’t stand being locked up in that place he was supposed to call “home”. Perhaps the _demands_ on him would diminish. Little did he know that it only increased his husband’s desire.

As always, the entire school sitting in the Great Hall watched him as he entered and he quickly took his seat at the Gryffindor table. Even after all this time, the gawking _still_ embarrassed Harry. He sat quietly beside Ron and across from Hermione. His two friends didn’t know quite what to say so they remained silent and just observed Harry, pretending _not_ to observe him of course. It was fifteen minutes later that finally Harry spoke.

“I understand you helped in finding a solution to my…problem,” Harry stated to Hermione.

The young witch was surprised that he actually wanted to talk about this so soon, but answered anyway.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry nodded, eyes focused on his breakfast plate. “So you know.”

Hermione’s cheek flushed. “Yes,” she said even quieter still.

Harry nodded again. “And you, Ron?” he asked still not looking up.

“Yes,” the redhead said shyly.

Harry didn’t speak for a couple of minutes. “Does everyone know then?” Harry asked flatly.

Hermione leaned over the table. “No!” she quickly said, lowering her voice.

Harry sighed. “But my two best friends do.”

The young witch bit her lip, too embarrassed to answer and Ron looked away, closing his eyes. Another few minutes went by.

“Thank you,” Harry muttered.

Hermione’s eyes teared up. She said the only thing she could think of. “I love you, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes pierced shut. The words echoed in his mind. _“I love, Harry.”_ He didn’t have to look over to see Ron nodding in agreement. He knew he was. He sighed. He wondered if they knew what he had to do _after_ the exchange of the new vows. But he was too afraid to ask. He was mortified enough. Harry did know one thing though. His _husband_ was watching them.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

His first class of the day was Double Potions and it took every ounce of courage Harry had left in him to walk through the doors. He kept his head lowered and ignored all the whispers around him. He wished the day was over already. Not surprisingly, Hermione and Ron were told to stay after the lesson.

Once the room was empty, Snape addressed the two of them.

“I asked to speak to you regarding Harry. As you can see by his behaviour today, he’s going to need his friends support and understanding to recover,” Severus said simply.

“Of course, Professor,” Hermione said.

“Severus, please.” Hermione nodded but Ron frowned. “What I’d like to ask you both is to let him heal naturally.”

“What?” Ron cried in disbelief.

“Please hear me out, Ron. You know Harry, as well as I do. More so even. And you know that he hates pity. He doesn’t want everyone to coddle him. I’m positive that he wants nothing more than to be left alone. I’m asking you to honour his wishes.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks. “But, sir…Severus…Harry needs…” she began.

“I know your intentions are in his best interest, Hermione. However, Harry needs to sort this out by himself. Just be there to listen to him if he decides to talk. I know he will eventually.” He glanced between his two frowning students. “What he needs right now is your love and support. Give him that. Don’t pretend that nothing has happened, but surround him with a sense of normalcy instead. He needs to feel like he still belongs to this school. Help him with that.”

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other again. Was Snape really serious? To carry on without comforting Harry? Act like nothing unusual has happened? No. He wasn’t serious. Was he?

“Please do this for Harry. I know he will appreciate it.”

The man _was_ serious. Hermione barely nodded but Ron narrowed his eyes.

“Thank you.” Severus looked over to the clock. “You best go now. Wouldn’t want you late for your next lesson.”

The two left reluctantly - still not wholly convinced - but knew a dismissal when they heard it.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Two weeks had passed and life at Hogwarts did go on as usual. No one spoke to Harry about the day he had almost died. No one. Not even Severus. As the days went by, Hermione and Ron noticed a change in Harry and it wasn’t a good change. He had grown more and more distant from everything and everyone. Especially them. It began to eat Hermione alive and Ron grew angrier with each passing second. Clearly Snape's advice wasn’t working.

At the start of the third week, the two of them confronted Snape after breakfast.

“What the hell is going on?” Ron blurted out.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed. She looked over to Severus. “Sir, we’re concerned about Harry. He’s not getting any better.”

The older wizard furrowed his brows, deep in thought. “Hmm. Perhaps a trip to Hogsmeade would help.”

“We already asked him! Three times!” Ron spat. “He said he had to ask for your _permission_!”

“What?” Snape said shocked. “I never said he had to do no such thing. Harry can do whatever he pleases. I would never allow him to _ask_ me for anything.”

Hermione nudged a furious Ron. “Sir, he didn’t exactly say that. What he said was that he had to talk to you about it.”

Severus folded his arms and stood tall. “I assure you, he has never mentioned anything about it.”

“Then why would he say that?” Ron countered.

Snape thought a moment. “I will talk to him about it,” he said firmly. “Today after class.”

Hermione smiled a little. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus nodded once then turned to leave. Once he was out of earshot, Ron glared at Hermione.

“You thanked him? Thanked him for _what_?”

The young witch sighed. “I don’t know. But maybe Harry will listen to him.”

“And maybe Snape is full of it!” Ron barked in the direction of the retreating wizard.

Hermione quietly sighed. _‘Maybe,’_ she thought.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Ron and Hermione waited impatiently outside of the Potion’s classroom. The redhead paced like he always did when he was nervous and the young witch was fidgeting with her robe. Both jumped when a familiar drawl rang out.

“The two of you might be here all day if Potter is serving _detention_ with his _husband_.”

“Sod off, Malfoy!”

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

Draco Malfoy was casually leaning on the wall, arms folded lazily across his chest.

“Honestly, Granger. You surprise me. I always thought you were smarter than this.”

“I said sod off!”

“If you have something to say, Malfoy, then say it!” Hermione spat.

The blond merely shrugged. “I’m just curious. How is it that two people are in a well-known _forced_ marriage and one of them _hates_ it…”

Just then Harry walked out.

“And one of them couldn’t be happier about it,” he continued, now looking straight at Harry.

“What?” Ron screamed. “Harry hates it just as much, you lying bastard! You better run, Malfoy, or you’ll be swallowing your teeth!”

Draco shrugged at the threat then quirked an eyebrow at Hermione before turning slowly around. Hermione frowned then quickly grabbed Ron by his sleeve to stop him from darting after the snotty boy. 

Harry scrunched his nose. “What was that about?”

“Malfoy’s a prick, that’s what! I can't believe him! Did you hear him, Hermione?”

“Yes, Ron, I heard him.” She turned to a confused Harry. “Forget about him, Harry. Let’s just go.”

Harry nodded and the three started towards their next class. Snape appeared from behind.

“Miss Granger,” Severus called out.

The young witch stopped and motioned her two friends to continue on.

“Yes?” she asked, walking over to him.

“What was that all about? With Mr Malfoy?”

“Oh. Nothing, sir…I mean Severus.”

The Potions master smiled. “I need to ask you a favour, Hermione.”

“Yes?”

“Would you make sure that Mr Malfoy stays far away from Harry?”

Hermione frowned. “Why, Severus? He’s just being his normal, irritating self.”

“I’m sure he is. However, I’m convinced Mr Malfoy is trying to cause trouble for Harry and will try to fill his head full of lies.”

“Sir? What kind of lies…?”

“You’re well aware that Mr Malfoy feels that Harry is responsible for sending his father, Lucius Malfoy, to Azkaban.”

“Yes, but what kind of lies could he …”

“Harry doesn’t need to know …” Snape paused. “He doesn’t need to have any more stress in his life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes…” Hermione answered skeptically.

“Good. Now then. Harry will be joining you and Ron next weekend to Hogsmeade.”

“Um, thank you, sir.”

A thin smile crossed Snape's features. “Of course,” he said bowing his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Hermione nodded then watched her teacher walk away, lost in her thoughts. For the first time, she questioned Malfoy _and_ Snape’s motives.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Friday night, the night before the trip to Hogsmeade, Severus found Harry curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, studying. The boy looked so beautiful with the firelight shining across his features. Snape gingerly sat down next to his husband and placed a hand on Harry’s thigh. Harry sighed.

“What is it?” Snape asked.

Harry lowered the book to his lap. “Nothing.”

“Harry, this has got to stop. Your friends are concerned about you and are only trying to help. You need to get over this.”

Harry stared blankly at him.

“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re only making yourself miserable,” Snape said bluntly. “And everyone around you, as well.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. _‘What?’_ his mind screamed.

“I know it’s been hard on you,” Severus continued with a softer voice. “But it’s been hard on me, as well. Do you think I enjoy seeing you waste your life away?”

Snape raised his hand up to stroke Harry’s face, but he moved it away.

“Now what?”

“Nothing,” Harry whispered. “I’m just…tired. That’s all.”

Severus scowled. “I guess that would explain your… _behaviour_ this week,” he said flatly.

Harry snapped his head back at looked at him questioningly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice how my own husband recoils away when I merely want to please him?” Harry flinched. “Or how he just lies there like a corpse?” Snape said harshly.

“No. No, it’s just…”

“Just what?” Severus demanded.

Harry looked back at the fireplace. “It’s just… Why do we have to do it everyday?” he whispered softly.

“I see,” Snape drawled. “My husband tires of his own selfish pleasure. Surely I can see why. Feeling guilty then,” he surmised.

His young husband’s eyes widened and stared at him. “W-what do you mean?” he asked, afraid of hearing the answer.

“Hmm. If I remember correctly, the exact words were: _“The equal right for sexual gratification and must not be characterised by selfishness”_.”

Harry blinked.

“That is _my_ right, as well, is it not? For sexual gratification?”

“I-I…”

“And you will not deny me, _will_ you?”

“I thought you enjoyed…”

“What, Harry? Pleasing my husband but my husband won't please _me_?”

The young wizard gasped as Snape rose off the couch, stood in front of him and removed his robe.

“But...but it also says…um… not to force or…”

“ _Force_?” the older man retorted offensively. “Do you think I would honestly _force_ my husband to do something that he is _required_ to do?”

Harry swallowed hard. “No,” he whispered.

Snape smirked. “Then I think it’s time to properly acquaint yourself with _my_ needs.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Two**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry leaned back against his favourite tree, gazing at the moon. It was so bright it lit up the entire grounds. The night was so calm he could almost swear he could hear every noise lying within a 100 ft vicinity. It was so peaceful here. So peaceful in fact that he decided he would come out here every night to be alone. It gave Harry time to think.

But tonight, what was there to think about? The last two hours? Harry cringed at that. He had learned more than he ever wanted to about his husband. He shivered as he remembered the responses Snape had made when he first touched the man. The way he moved during Harry’s first clumsy attempt at a blowjob.

_“Not to worry, Harry. You’ll get better with time.”_

Harry closed his eyes but it only intensified the images. Severus naked. Coming all of over his stomach and Harry having to clean it. He shuddered again. Harry wondered how in the world the man was able to get it up so fast. Potions? Spells? He shook his head and sighed. It didn’t matter now anyway, did it? Nothing really mattered.

He gazed up to the beautiful moon again.

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

Harry closed his eyes and softly sighed. No place was sacred anymore.

“Out here pouting?”

Harry barely shook his head. The lack of response irritated Snape - it reminded him of the previous hour.

“Harry, I’m sorry I was so abrasive tonight, but now you know just what is expected from you in this marriage, and that it will be a normal occurrence in our relationship. The sooner you accept that, the sooner things will go back to normal,” Snape said flatly.

_‘Normal?’_ Harry thought to himself. _‘Nothing in this marriage is normal. Nor ever will be.’_

“Now that we have that cleared up, we can begin your training. Tomorrow, I will show you how to properly control the new powers you’ve acquired. After you’ve come back from Hogsmeade, of course,” he said as an after thought.

Harry sighed. _‘Of course. First trained to be an obedient husband and now to be trained as the saviour of the Wizarding World.’_ Harry wrapped his arms around himself.

“Are you all right, Harry? Are you cold?” He slowly shook his head. Snape paused. “Are you sore? Do you require a pain potion?”

Harry hugged himself tighter. For weeks, all Harry had to do was lie down and his husband would either straddle him - or after coaxing Harry to ‘get involved’ - he finally took Severus on his knees. But never once did he face him. He couldn't. So now that Snape had taken his pleasure from _him_ , of _course_ he was sore.

“No,” he lied. “I’m fine.” He looked up to the moon again.

Snape gently took hold the young wizard’s chin so he would face him. “I really am sorry that I was rough with you tonight.” Harry kept his expression neutral. “But that was the only way I could get through to you the importance of my needs, as well as yours. They are one and the same.” 

Harry could only stare at him. It wasn’t a need to Harry. It only brought temporary relief. Sex was now – and perhaps always was – a demand for the sole pleasure of Severus. He looked down, closed his eyes and sighed.

“Don’t stay out here too long. It would distress me greatly if I was to find out my husband had caught a cold,” Severus said teasingly.

_‘Of course it would,’_ Harry thought bitterly. _‘How would it look if your young husband would get sick? What kind of husband would that make you?’_

Severus leaned over and softly whispered in his ear. “I’ll wait up for you.” Then kissed his forehead. Harry tried so hard not to repel away.

He waited until he was sure Severus was inside the castle before sliding down the tree. He brought in his legs to his chest, gripped his ankles, and laid his head on top of his knees. As he sat there bunched up, Harry tried to get some retrospect on his husband. Just what the hell kind of man was he?

_‘A lying bastard,’_ Harry’s mind screamed.

But still, Harry wondered why sometimes Snape behaved so strangely. Why did he act so caring and concerned one minute, then scolded him like a child the next? Or why did he constantly worship Harry’s body on a daily basis and yet demand only _his_ satisfaction? Was this what happens within a marriage? Constant contradiction? Harry shook his head. Surely not. So why _was_ Snape acting this way? Harry sighed deeply.

Unconsciously, Harry’s thoughts drifted back to the sexual side of his husband. At this point, Harry covered his head with arms as if that would stop the vivid images. How could Snape be so blind to the fact that no matter how skilled, how tender, or how patient he was, Harry was _not_ enjoying it. Yes, physically he was, but definitely not mentally. Maybe Snape didn’t really care one way or another. Maybe he did it solely for his own ego.

_‘A selfish bastard,’_ Harry surmised.

“So tell me, Potter. Does he make you clean his shoes with your tongue?” a familiar voice drawled.

_‘Damn. That’s all I need.’_

Draco Malfoy watched as Harry tightened his hold on himself.

“You know Potter, you’ve become quite a bore lately.” He paused. “No, that’s not the right word. Pathetic actually. You ignore your friends – of course I don’t blame you on that one really. The poor weasel and the mudblood bird? Hmm. You might actually be getting smarter on that one.”

Harry’s head shot up. “Shut up!”

Malfoy smirked. “And then there’s Quidditch,” he continued, shaking his head. “Lost the desire for it, have you? Not that I mind of course, but you did give me _some_ kind of a challenge.”

Harry’s eyes hardened, but said nothing further.

The blond looked up at the moon. “What I don’t understand, is why did they think that this – _marriage_ – would make you stronger?” He looked back down at Harry. “If anything, it’s made you weaker,” he mused.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he snapped.

“Me? Just making an observation, that’s all.”

Harry looked away. “Fine. You’ve made it. Now why don’t you run along and tell your daddy so he can go tell Voldemort. I’m sure you’ll get a handsome reward,” he said flatly.

Suddenly the air was tense and for the first time, Malfoy was quiet. Unable to hold back his curiosity, Harry turned to meet a pair of grey hateful eyes.

“Not everything is about _Him_ , Potter,” he spat out viciously.

“Then what do you care, Malfoy?”

The blond clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “What I care about, _Potter_ , is the abuse of power.”

Harry laughed. “That’s rich coming from a Malfoy.”

Draco remained silent and only stared at him. Harry’s brows furrowed questionably. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“So, Potter. Is he good to you?” Malfoy asked, suddenly calm. “Does he treat you well? Does he give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted?”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised by the boy’s change of demeanor.

Draco merely shrugged. “Knowing him he probably does.” He raised an eyebrow. “And of course, there _is_ his talented mouth,” he smirked.

“Wha…? How would _you_ know?” Harry cried.

“Please, Potter. My father is a Death Eater. Do you honestly think that Snape was only required to make potions?” Harry’s mouth fell open. The blond laughed. “He _was_ a spy after all.”

“So…so then _He_ knew that he was… that he is…” Harry stuttered.

“Merlin's blood, Potter,” Malfoy laughed again. “You can't even say the bloody word. Even though _you_ are now.”

Harry jumped to his feet, fist closed tightly by his side.

“I AM NOT GAY!”

Draco shook his head. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, Potter, but you are in fact married to a man and that technically means you are.”

“I am not… _gay_ ,” he snapped, looking disgusted.

Malfoy stood up straighter, crossed his arms and glared at him. “You say that as if it’s a disease,” he snarled.

Harry’s brow shot up and his eyes widened. Suddenly, it occurred to Harry. “You’re… you're …” Harry paused then his expression turned somber. “You slept with him,” he stated.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Please, Potter. Even _I_ have better taste than that.”

“So,” Harry began slowly. “Does everyone know?”

“Know what? That Snape likes to bend over and take it up the arse?” he joked. “Only a select few.”

“What? Who?”

“We get enough animosity as it is. And now him? Marrying someone who is obviously straight just for his own selfish pleasure?” He stopped for a moment. “Like I said: abuse of power.”

Malfoy smiled wickedly at Harry’s shocked expression.

“Of course, it could be worse. _You_ could be the one bending over,” he said snorting.

Harry pursed his lips into a thin line and glared. The blond raised an eyebrow.

“So his tastes have changed, have they? Interesting.” Malfoy said amused. He shrugged, “Well, no matter. At least you get shagged everyday. Probably two or three times, if the rumours about Snape are true.”

Malfoy chuckled, then turned to leave.

“Like I care.”

The blond slowly turned back. “What?”

Harry leaned against the tree, folded his arms and stared at the moon. “Nothing,” he replied quietly.

“What did you say?” he asked, his voice lowering.

“Nothing!” Harry hissed. “Just… go somewhere else to laugh.”

“Did I just hear you say that you didn’t care about sex? I did, didn’t I?” Draco snorted. “I hardly believe that.”

“Not _that_ kind of sex!”

Malfoy advanced on him. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean, Potter?” he said, instantly angry.

“What about you, Malfoy?” he countered quickly, whipping his head back around. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”

The blond quirked a brow. “That’s right. So?”

“So, you’re… you’re…You’ll be marrying a _woman_.”

“Like I said. So?” Malfoy tilted his head then nodded, realising. “Ah. I see. Yes, Potter, I do have to provide an heir. So what?”

“So it’s a _woman_ ,” Harry repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’ll be married for _life_.”

“I _am_ allowed other sexual partners.”

“What? But you’ll be married!”

“Haven’t read the marriage contract, have you?” Malfoy said shaking his head. Harry scrunched his brows together and frowned. Malfoy sighed. “ _No sexual activities outside the marriage will be permissible unless otherwise discussed_. Trust me, Potter. We’ve already discussed that part.” Then Draco shrugged. “Besides, sex is sex.” 

Harry looked away and made a disgusted sound. Malfoy walked the short distance to Harry, invading his personal space. He placed a hand next to Harry’s head.

“What are you doing?” he gasped.

Malfoy smirked. “So you don’t like it, do you?”

“Back off, Malfoy,” Harry said, panicking.

The blond leaned in. “You don’t like hands all over your body?” he breathed softly.

Harry barely shook his head. “No,” he whispered.

“Stroking you. Teasing you as a mouth nips at your throat,” Malfoy purred, lips not quite touching Harry’s neck.

“S-stop it.” His heart started beating faster. What was happening to him? He should be _appalled_. Not...not…

The blond’s breath flowed over Harry’s ear. “You don’t like to be licked?” Malfoy’s tongue lightly touched Harry’s earlobe causing him to inhale sharply. “To be caressed?” The blond ran his hand up and down Harry’s arm.

“N-no,” Harry stammered, too paralysed to move.

Malfoy’s leg gently touched Harry’s, causing contact of the blond’s bulge against his. Harry closed his eyes and let out a small moan. Draco pressed in further.

“If you were mine,” he whispered as his lips brushed against Harry’s parted mouth. “I’d tease you for _hours_ till you _begged_ me to stop.”

Harry tightened his eyes and softly gasped. In an instant, a cool breeze hit Harry’s body. He snapped his eyes open and Malfoy was standing a few feet in front of him.

“If you were mine that is.” He winked once at Harry then turned around and headed back up to the castle.

Harry closed his eyes again and stood there panting.

“By the way, Potter,” Malfoy called out to him. “You _are_ allowed to say ‘no’ sometimes. It is _your_ marriage, as well as his.”

Harry blinked and then watched in astonishment as the young aristocrat strolled casually up to the main doors.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The young wizard emerged quietly into the living area. It was empty. Harry sighed in relief. He wanted a quick and cold shower before crawling into bed next to … _him_. He made it as far as the sofa when a pair of possessive arms wrapped themselves tightly around his waist from behind.

“What...?”

“You were gone too long,” Severus said, tightening his hold.

Harry squirmed in an effort to get away.

“You lied to me, Harry.”

The young man instantly froze and held his breath.

“You said you weren’t sore, but I saw how you were walking just now. You _are_ sore.”

Before Harry could utter another word, the two of them moved forward and Harry’s hips hit the back of the sofa. One hand quickly worked at Harry’s belt and the other pressed against his spine, lowering his torso.

“But I can fix that,” Snape whispered and then in one swift movement, pulled Harry’s trousers and pants down to his knees.

“No!”

“Shh. It _was_ my fault after all,” he said, kneeling down behind him.

“No,” Harry repeated, this time quieter.

Two large hands rested on the top of Harry’s bum, before slowly moving down, thumbs slipping smoothly in between his crevice. Harry buried his face in the cushions. Splayed fingertips parted his cheeks and Snape silently pushed and pulled until Harry’s arse was in the air.... opened wide, exposing his vulnerability. The two thumbs stroked around and along Harry’s entrance and then he gasped loudly when a wet tongue circled his swollen and abused hole before finally plunging in and out.

“No,” Harry mumbled into the sofa.

Snape stopped and ran his tongue upwards until reaching his cleft. Harry heard a rustle of clothes then felt naked flesh touch him. Harry bolted up and elbowed his husband in his sternum.

“No!” he yelled, pulling up his trousers.

The older wizard clenched his jaw and rubbed his stomach. “Boy,” he warned.

“No! I said no! How many times do I have to say it before you’ll listen to me?”

Snape deliberately approached him slowly and Harry stepped back, suddenly terrified.

“You are not allowed to say no, boy,” he hissed.

Harry’s eyes widened. “W-why? Why not? Don’t I have any rights?” he asked, voice rising.

Severus’s eyes narrowed and an evil smirk spread across his face. “You lost all rights when you renewed your vow.”

The young husband blinked. “What?” he cried. His back was now against the farthest wall.

“Foolish boy. The wedding vows override most of the stipulations in the marriage contract,” he sneered contently.

“No,” Harry whispered in disbelief.

Snape leered down at his young husband then stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. “Oh yes, dear Harry. And in your vow said you would fulfill _all_ the requirements and duties that is required of a husband.”

“But…but...” He quickly thought of Malfoy. “You can't abuse that power.”

“Abuse?” Snape asked offensively. “ _Abuse_?” he repeated louder then slammed Harry against the wall. “Have I used an unforgivable on you? Have I ever caused you to bleed? Have I ever bruised you unnecessarily?” Snape leaned in and whispered in Harry’s ear. “Why my dear husband, if I was to abuse you, you would certainly be the first to know,” he said mockingly. He placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushed him firmly to his knees. “And now, my dear husband, it is time to fulfill your duties yet again.”

Harry turned his face away trying to hide his tears. He was lost. He was lost and had nowhere to run.

Deep within Harry’s desk drawer, a small arrow in a small ball never stopped spinning.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Three**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers then raised his arms of over his head, stretching them along with the rest of his body. He sighed deeply knowing he had a peaceful sleep. One that he hadn’t since… Harry quickly sat up and looked to his left. The mattress still held a dent and in the distance he could hear running water coming from the bathroom. His shoulders sagged and glanced over to the bedside table. A small, empty phial was sitting there. Harry nodded his head, remembering last night. He had needed a pain potion and was given a mild sedative along with it.

Hearing the water turn off, Harry quickly laid back down, turned over, and hugged his pillow tight. A slight creak of a door and the sounds of soft footsteps told him his husband was rapidly approaching. The bed dipped.

“Harry? Are you awake?” Severus whispered, brushing the boy’s fringe aside.

Harry fluttered his eyes open and stared at him.

“How do you feel? Did you sleep well?”

He barely nodded.

“Good. Now I was thinking,” Severus began as he stroked Harry’s back, pulling the duvet and sheet down with him. Harry’s muscles tensed. “What is it? Is something wrong?” Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly. Severus let out a small, frustrated sigh. “I told you last night, Harry that I was sorry. I shouldn’t have indulged so heavily in alcohol yesterday.”

Harry’s eyes hardened. “You said nothing would change.”

“What? Oh for… Harry stop. Stop this right now. We’ve gone over this countless times.” Harry continued to glare at him. “I have never stopped you from doing anything you wanted to. Go to Hogsmeade. Buy a new broom – a new wardrobe, I don’t care. If you want to spend the entire weekend with Ron and Hermione, then by all means do it. I told you, I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

Harry abruptly sat up. “You didn’t act like that last night,” he said bitterly.

Snape clenched his jaw. “I am only going to say this one more time. I. Am. Sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.” He paused. “But you _did_ initiate it.”

“What?” he cried.

Severus took a deep breath. “I tire of constantly having to explain myself to you. We are married. It’s a simple as that. The only thing I have ever asked of you is a small amount of time for our…intimate moments. It that so hard for you to understand?” he said, with a bit of annoyance in his voice.

“No,” Harry growled. “I understand. Morning, noon and night. Even if I don’t want to.”

Snape swung his leg over Harry and straddled him, pushing him back and causing the young man to gasp. The older wizard placed his hands astride of Harry’s head and leaned down.

“Is that too much of an inconvenience for you, Harry?” he hissed in a low voice. “Is it really a burden for you? Do I need to ask your permission now before I can even touch my own _husband_?” His eyes darted back and forth into the wide green eyes, now in shock. “I have done everything in my power to make sure that _you_ enjoy it and apart from last night, I was under the impression that I was doing just that.”

Harry’s mouth parted and his brows pinched together. Severus sat up and folded his arms over his chest.

“Well?” Snape asked raising an eyebrow. Harry couldn’t speak. “If you deny me again, my dear husband, you _will_ receive the same treatment as you did last night.” Snape paused again then bent over. “Am I making myself clear?”

Harry’s eyes and mouth opened wider and nodded numbly.

Severus smiled in satisfaction. “Excellent decision. Now,” he said looking over at the clock. “I believe we still have time to seal our agreement.”

He softly smiled then lowered himself further down and whispered in Harry’s ear. “You really don’t have anything to worry about, Harry. You know what I like. I like it when _you’re_ in control.” Snape licked his earlobe. “I love it when you cry, Harry. When the orgasm is so intense that it reduces you to tears.” Harry inhaled sharply. “Just try not to forget about _me_ within your throes of passion… _again_.”

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He had to remind himself once again that this was the price he had to pay. Only now, he _had_ to enjoy it and worse than that – he had to make sure his _husband_ did, as well.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“ _Malfoy_?” Ron repeated for the third time.

Hermione threw her napkin on her half-eaten breakfast and looked away. “I’m not talking to you, Ronald Weasley, until you get over your childish prejudice and _listen to me_ ,” she said through clenched teeth.

Ron looked down at his own plate and sighed. “Sorry, Hermione. It’s just…it’s _Malfoy_ you’re talking about.” The young witch whipped back around and flashed him a hateful glare. He looked away and bit his lower lip. “All right,” he whispered. “I’ll listen.” 

Hermione took several deep breaths, calming her anger. “He knows something, Ron. I know it. He won't say what it is, but I _know_ he knows something that we don’t.”

“Are you suggesting that we talk to him?” Ron said grimacing.

Hermione thought for a minute. “No,” she began slowly and Ron let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not for certain, but I think I know what it _might_ be about.”

“Well, let’s hear it.”

The young witch leaned over the table as far as she could. “I’ve been thinking all week about what he said.” Ron made a face, but nodded. “Right afterwards, Snape asked me to keep him away from Harry. Do you remember?”

The redhead shrugged. “Yeah, so? Maybe he knows that slimy git is just out to make trouble for Harry.”

“ _Ron_ ,” she warned.

Ron slumped over. “Sorry.”

“What if Snape doesn’t want Harry – or us – to find out.”

“Find out what?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, _Ronald_ ,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him and he blushed. Hermione scoffed then continued. “I think the trial was a lie.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Ron snorted.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I think the Ministry lied to us. Lied to everyone.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. It’s just…Have you seen the way Snape looks at Harry?”

Ron shrugged.

“Don’t you see? Malfoy was talking about Snape. He’s the one Malfoy was referring to.”

“So what if he was? It _was_ Snape's Life-Debt after all. That’s what he wanted, but the Ministry said…”

“That’s what I’m talking about, Ron! What if…” Hermione glanced over and saw Harry walking into the Great Hall. “Damn.” And she quickly sat back down and straightened her clothes.

“Now what’ll we do?” Ron whispered.

The young witch sighed. “I’m going to ask him.”

“Malfoy?” the redhead cried softly.

“Harry, Ron. _Harry_!” she spat. “Merlin, you're so thick sometimes.”

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “Hiya, Harry.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco Malfoy turned the corner and came face-to-face with Severus Potter. The man had his arms crossed and looked down at the young wizard through slitted eyes. The blond smirked.

“Professor,” he acknowledged.

“Stay away from him,” he ordered.

Malfoy didn’t miss a beat. He raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, Professor?”

Snape pursed his lips together and his nostrils flared. “You are as arrogant as your father, Mr Malfoy.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said tipping his head.

“I’m warning you, boy.”

Malfoy lifted both brows. “Are you threatening me, _Professor_?” he asked, amused.

“I will not have you fill his head with lies,” he sneered.

“And you’d know all about lies, wouldn’t you,” the blond snorted.

“Take care in what you say to me, Mr Malfoy,” Snape hissed.

Malfoy scoffed at that, taking a step towards the Potions master. “Tell me, Professor, is it fun playing with someone?”

Severus then took a step forward. “You're a fine one to talk, Mr Malfoy. You and your entire _family_.”

Draco ignored the insult. “I mean the power you must feel to convert someone who is so _unwilling_ ,” he said snidely.

“Do you honestly think I care what you and your kind think of me?” the older wizard snapped.

“ _My_ kind?” he quickly responded. Snape narrowed his eyes and curled his lips to an evil grin. Malfoy paused to regain his bearings. “But to answer your question: No, I don’t. But I _do_ think you care about what _everyone else_ would think if they were to find out that…”

“When are you getting your Dark Mark, Mr Malfoy?” Severus interrupted. “I’m sure your father will be so _proud_ of you when your time comes.”

The blond clenched his teeth. “At least I won't serve Him in the same way as _you_ once did,” he snarled.

Draco held his chin high as Snape advanced and grabbed his robe. “Why you…”

“Severus?”

Snape released his hold and turned to face Professor Dumbledore. 

“Albus.”

Dumbledore glanced back and forth between the two men. Malfoy’s eyes remained defiantly locked on the Potions master.

“Is everything all right, Mr Malfoy?”

Not looking away, he replied, “Yes, Professor Dumbledore. Professor Potter and I were having a little discussion. Weren’t we, _Professor_?”

Snape turned to the blond. “And I believe our _discussion_ is over, is it not, Mr Malfoy?”

Draco smirked. “Quite.” He passed Albus. “Good day, sir,” he said nodding his head at him.

“Good day, Mr Malfoy.”

The two older wizards watched as the blond calmly strolled down the corridor, and rounded a corner.

“Severus, you will tell me _now_ ... Just _what_ you thought you were doing,” he said firmly.

Snape's expression relaxed. “I apologise, Albus. But the boy was threatening to go to Voldemort about Harry. I’m afraid I lost my temper.”

Dumbledore peered skeptically over his moon-shaped glasses. Severus remained undaunted. The two had a silent stare down before Albus conceded.

“Very well. I came to talk to you about Harry.”

Snape inwardly flinched. “Sir?”

“I’m curious as to what he plans to do once he passes his N.E.W.T.s.”

Severus quietly sighed. “Yes, of course. Shall we talk in my office?” he offered, motioning the way.

Dumbledore nodded and walked passed him. Snape smirked the whole way there.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The three friends walked to Hogsmeade in silence. They would each smile at one another every now and then, but nothing more. Finally arriving, Hermione temporary forgot about confronting Harry when she spotted Flourish & Blotts bookstore.

“I’ll be right back!” she squealed.

“I think I’ll join you, Hermione,” Harry said quietly.

“What?” Ron and Hermione shouted together, looking back at him shocked.

Harry shrugged. “I need some books to help me with my studies.”

The redhead grimaced and the young witch looped her arm in Harry’s.

“Let’s go then,” she said happily. Ron rolled his eyes.

After entering, Harry excused himself and began wandering around the store while Hermione went straight to the encyclopedia section. Ron, however, stayed by the main entrance, ready to make a mad dash when it was time to leave. Hermione found what she was looking for then stopped when she spotted Harry. She was about to say something, but the intense concentration on Harry’s face worried her. She stepped back, wondering what book had captured Harry’s attention. He wasn’t in the normal schoolbook section.

Hermione began to panic when it was obvious that Harry was turning to leave and she quickly darted out of sight. She watched him carefully as he approached the counter and handed the cashier money. The older wizard disappeared for a moment then came out with a large book. Just like the one Harry was looking at. The clerk tapped the book, shrinking it before he handed it to Harry, who tucked it safely in his pocket. Hermione ran over to another section and waited till Harry had passed her.

“I’m ready if you are, Ron.”

Ron nodded. “Please. This place gives me a headache. Hermione?” he called out.

The young witch stepped out of an aisle and smiled. “Oh, go on ahead. I have one other book to find.”

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and nudged him. “Come on, Harry. She’ll be in here all day.”

Hermione scowled at him as the two wizards began to leave.

“We’ll be at the Three Broomsticks,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded and waited a few minutes before walking over to the place where Harry found the book. It was still lying in the open and she took a deep breath before reading the title. “The Witch and Wizard’s Guide in Forced Marriages”. She softly gasped. She closed her eyes briefly then tapped on the cover.

“Last page.”

It was a simple spell one would use to locate the last page you were reading. The pages turned quickly then abruptly stopped. Hermione let out a small sob as she read the spell. She shut the book with a thud, holding back her tears.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Hermione leaned against the brick wall of the Three Broomsticks. She was talking to herself, trying to calm down enough to enter. Finally convinced, she put on a fake smile and walked through the door. She saw Harry and Ron in a far corner. She took a deep breath.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Ron said, surprised.

The young woman half-shrugged. “Couldn’t find it,” she muttered.

Both Harry and Ron opened their mouths and theirs brows scrunched together.

“What?” she asked, annoyed.

The two could only shake their heads in disbelief. Minutes soon went by and like the trip down to Hogsmeade, all three sat there drinking their butterbeer in silence. Harry finally looked up from his mug and unconsciously squeezed his pocket.

“Excuse me, guys,” Harry said, standing.

His two friends nodded. Hermione waited until she was sure he was out of range and then covered her face.

“Hermione? What's wrong?”

She peered through her fingers. “Oh, Ron. I saw what book Harry bought,” she whispered. He nodded for her to continue. “It’s called, ‘The Witch and Wizard’s Guide in Forced Marriages’. And I saw… I saw… oh God, Ron.”

“Hermione, what _is_ it?”

She wiped her tears away and chewed on her lower lip. “We need to do something, Ron. We _have_ to.”

“ _Hermione_. Tell me what you saw,” he insisted.

The young witch looked away. “It was a spell. It was a spell _and_ a potion.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s for a wizard who wants to stop…to prevent …an orgasm from happening when he ejaculates,” she quickly said, and covered her face again.

“ _What_?” Ron cried out.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Harry rejoined his friends, he noticed both of them were extremely quiet _and_ extremely upset.

“Ron? Hermione? Are you two all...”

“Harry, I need to ask you something,” Hermione blurted out.

He looked her questioningly then glanced at Ron who was looking down. “All right,” he said slowly.

Hermione looked down at the tabletop for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Harry, did Snape really offer to change the marriage to a bond?”

The Boy-Who-Lived blinked. His mouth opened several times before screaming, _“WHAT?”_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Four**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Hermione Granger sat across from her friend, Harry Potter, and watched him carefully. She knew by the reddening of his face, the way his veins protruded out of his neck and the unnatural shade of green in his eyes, that he was ready to attack anyone who even dared to look at him wrong. Fortunately for her, she knew that she wasn’t going to be one of them. She was his friend. And as his friend, it was her duty to tell him the truth. The truth about the lies that everyone was told …and later believed. Even her.

“Tell me, Hermione,” Harry said, the words growling out of his throat.

She barely nodded and suddenly wished that she wasn’t the messenger. It was breaking her heart to see him this way. If he had _ever_ felt betrayed, this would be the defining moment. Hermione held her breath and slowly released it. He had to know. _She_ had to know.

“The trial was about the Life-Debt and your refusal,” the young witch said rhetorically. Harry gave a curt nod. “ _Your_ refusal. Only yours.”

Again Harry nodded but this time narrowed his eyes. Hermione pursed her lips together and looked away. How could she have been so blind? How did she allow herself to believe otherwise? She glanced over to Ron. He too was looking ashamed. Ashamed but at the same time angry. Harry had every right to hate them.

“ _Tell_ me,” Harry ordered in a low and dangerous voice.

_‘He has to know,’_ she repeated in her head. No matter the cost of their friendship.

“After Snape's Life-Debt was revealed and your refusal of it, we were told that the Ministry was called in,” Hermione stated. Harry nodded once in confirmation. Silently, she took a deep breath. “When the Ministry refused to change it,” She paused to take another deep breath. She could do this. “Snape offered to change the Life-Debt.”

Ron and Hermione both swallowed hard as their friend gripped his brass butterbeer mug, turning his knuckles white. The young witch nervously licked her dry lips and continued.

“We were told that Snape admitted that he acted rashly and regretted his decision to force you into something that you clearly did not want.”

Harry began to tremble, but said nothing. Hermione kept _herself_ in check and went on.

“Snape told the Ministry that he wanted to change the Life-Debt marriage to a bonding _only_.” She paused then whispered, “They said you agreed.”

Ron jumped and Hermione flinched when Harry threw his mug against the far wall. Panting hard, he bowed his head and dug his nails into the palms of his hands and continued to shake. The room fell silent. The redhead shot each customer a look, telling them to mind their own business. However, that would be hard because this was Harry Potter – The Boy-Who-Lived – who just exploded.

Hermione quietly began again. “Cornelius Fudge and the rest of the Ministry denied that, as well. They said that since both of you had refused, the consequences…” the words choked in Hermione's throat. She shook her head. “The consequences of refusing a Life-Debt would be imprisonment in Azkaban,” she said quickly. She closed her eyes and started taking in short bits of air. Hermione slowly opened her eyes. “Imprisonment for _both_ of you.”

Harry clenched his jaw hard and started to shake violently. He was ready to lash out at any given moment. The young witch fought back the tears that were threatening to escape, but one had already fallen.

“There's more, Harry,” Hermione whispered.

Harry’s head stayed down but his dark eyes lifted to meet hers.

“After the trial was over, everyone was told that Snape ordered the marriage to be platonic.” Harry bared his teeth and the young witch tried to ignore it. “The Ministry denied that, as well, and told you both that if you were to refuse again, another trial would commence. They also said that the marriage had to be…” Hermione stopped but Harry nodded for her to go on. “The marriage had to be consummated in order for the bonding to work. They said that if you didn’t, you would both die.”

Another tear fell as she watched her best friend struggle just to stay seated.

“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice just above a whisper. “Snape told us that he had no choice in the matter and hated doing… _that_ …as much as you did. He said Dumbledore was assigned to make sure that…”

Harry had heard enough. He knocked the chair backwards as he jumped to his feet and all but ran to the Floo Network. Hermione and Ron followed close behind. As soon as he reached the fireplace, he spun around.

“Who told you all of this?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried look.

“Dumbledore,” Ron said softly.

“Stay here!” Harry barked.

“No!” the young witch cried. “We’re coming with you!”

“I have to do this by _myself_ ,” he hissed.

Ron gently touched her arm. “Harry's right, Hermione. He has to do this alone.”

Harry snapped his head over to the redhead. “Where is she, Ron?” he demanded.

Ron blanched.

Enunciating each word as if Ron was a child, “Where is Ginny?”

Ron's mouth opened and closed. “I can't... I mean I’m forbidden to …”

“No one knows, Harry,” Hermione said.

“Hermione!”

“Shut up, Ron! You may have been sworn into secrecy, but I haven’t,” she spat. She turned to Harry. “Right after she was removed from Hogwarts, she was ordered to go to Durmstrang. Two weeks after that, the family took a trip to Hogsmeade to get her new school supplies. No one knew that she had packed up everything she owned. She must have shrunk them down and hid them.” Hermione paused briefly. “She ran away, Harry. No one has seen nor heard from her since.”

Harry’s eyes began to blink, as they welled up with tears.

“Her family and the Ministry looked everywhere. You were under surveillance for a long time, Harry, thinking the two of you had planned this from the beginning and that she would try to contact you.” The young witch studied Harry’s distraught face. “But she didn’t, did she, Harry?” she asked softly.

Harry looked away and shook his head.

“Harry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that we believed all the lies.” She swallowed hard. “I tried, Harry. I really did. I tried to find a way to reverse the Life-Debt. I studied every book there was.” Hermione looked away. “I couldn’t find anything, Harry.” She started to weep openly. “I really tried. But… I failed you,” she sobbed, covering her face in her hands. “I failed you…”

Harry’s hatred melted as he watched his best friend have a nervous breakdown. He knew she had remained strong throughout this entire discussion, but her so-called weakness to help him had done her in.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered. He tenderly pulled her forward and held her tightly in his arms. “Shh. I’m sorry I doubted you, Hermione.” He looked up at Ron. He also was silently crying. “I’m sorry that I doubted both of you.”

Ron smiled weakly. Gently, Harry pushed Hermione away and removed her hands. He bent down and looked into her heartbroken eyes.

“It’s all right, Hermione,” he assured her. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.”

For the first time in months, Harry smiled at her. And Ron. He turned and stepped into the fireplace. He smiled once more before shouting, “Dumbledore’s office!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Harry stepped out of the fireplace, Professor Albus Dumbledore was already waiting for him.

“Harry, what is the meaning of this? You have just interrupted an important meeting with…”

“Why did you lie to everyone?” Harry bit out.

“Harry,” Albus said, slightly taken back.

“Answer me!”

Dumbledore quickly turned to his guests. “Gentlemen, would you please excuse us?”

The five men nodded and immediately rushed to the fireplace and Floo’d out of the tense surroundings. The older wizard turned back to a furious Harry Potter.

“I don’t know what has provoked this unacceptable behaviour, Harry Potter, but you had better explain yourself,” Dumbledore said, in a low warning voice.

Harry’s fists were at his side and his chest tightened. “How could you have lied to everyone? What reason could you possibly have had?”

Albus’ brows furrowed in confusion and tilted his head slightly. “It would help to know exactly what you are referring to. _What_ did I lie about?”

The younger wizard grounded his teeth together. “The Life-Debt,” he said gruffly. “You told everyone that Snape had offered to change it.”

Dumbledore nodded, though still confused. “Yes, I did.”

“How could you do that?” Harry said, voice rising. “You knew what _really_ happened, but yet you lied to everyone!”

Albus leaned back on his heels and his face hardened. He stared skeptically back and forth at Harry’s eyes then turned and calmly walked back to his desk. After sitting down comfortably, he motioned Harry to join him. When Harry shook his head, Albus sighed.

“Harry, there's something you need to know.”

Reluctantly, The Boy-Who-Lived stormed over and sat stiffly in front of him. Dumbledore steepled his fingers and thought a moment. He studied Harry’s angry face and nodded. No wonder Severus and Cornelius didn’t want him speaking to Harry about this. _“It will only make matters worse for him, Albus,”_ recalling Fudge's exact words. Albus decided to start at the beginning.

“After your refusal, Harry, Severus renounced his Life-Debt. He thought it best to change it to a mere bonding.” He watched as Harry clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap. “He had said that a bonding would be sufficient enough and didn’t want to burden you, your future, or your chance at happiness.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Albus stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Allow me to continue, Harry.” The boy nodded. “Minister Cornelius Fudge denied his recantation and warned him that any attempt to change a prewritten Life-Debt would mean Azkaban for him, as well as for you. I was told that Severus did not care what the consequences would be because he was only thinking of you.”

Harry’s nostrils flared and his eyes widened.

Albus continued, “Because Severus had refused to retract his new-found decision, Cornelius contacted the Ministry and the trial commenced. After they had won, Severus then demanded that the marriage of convenience was to be altered to a platonic one.”

At this point, the older wizard leaned over his desk. “Harry, you must understand something. I was not present when all of this occurred. The entire conversation was solely between Severus and Cornelius Fudge.” Albus peered over his glasses. Harry was staring at him blankly. The older wizard sighed. “Harry, it was not my place to question Severus or the Ministry. I was instructed to recount the new developments to everyone _and_ the reasons why.” At this point, Albus sighed. “They thought it best that I was to be the one to relay the information - being Headmaster of Hogwarts and all.”

Harry blinked several times. “You mean…you didn’t know what they were doing?”

Albus barely shook his head. “I only repeated what I was told. I was then given the unfortunate task of making sure Severus and you completed the required ritual bonding.” The older wizard sighed. “I felt however, that it was to be Severus’s responsibility. Not mine. I did not want this burden placed upon me, and I resented the fact that I would have to intervene if necessary.”

Harry looked down and blushed. “I-I thought… I _assumed_ … I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t know that,” he whispered.

“Harry,” Albus said firmly enough to get him to look up. “Neither did I.”

Suddenly, Dumbledore rose abruptly and stormed over to the fireplace and tossed a bit of Floo powder in it.

“Severus!” his voice boomed.

In an instant, the Potions master appeared. He followed Albus over to his desk and stood next to his young husband.

“Yes, Albus?” he asked casually.

“Did you lie to me, Severus?” he asked calmly, sitting back down in his chair.

Snape blinked a few times. “I do not understand the question, Albus.”

The older wizard crossed his arms over his chest. “I will only ask you once more. Did you lie to me?”

Severus swallowed audibly then glanced over to a smirking Harry Potter. “Albus,” he began softly. “I honestly do not know what you are referring to.”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, trying to catch a hint of deception shining out from the onyx eyes. Yes, it was there. He saw it.

“You know precisely what I’m referring to, Severus Snape. The Life-Debt.” The Potions master blinked, hearing his given name. _“Did you lie to me?”_ he shouted.

Harry flinched, but Snape held his head high and remained silent. Albus continued to glare at him then scoffed, and walked back to the fireplace to call in Cornelius Fudge.

Now that Dumbledore was out of earshot, Harry wanted to scream, to yell, to pounce on this smug man who called himself his husband. A thousand questions, a thousand curses flooded Harry’s mind, but all he could manage to say out loud was, “ _Why_?”

Snape looked at him sharply. “I don’t expect you to understand, boy.”

The answer was not what he was expecting. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Cornelius Fudge appeared next to a seething Albus Dumbledore. Finally behind his desk again, he glared at the two older wizards. He motioned the three of them to sit.

Looking directly at Fudge, “The information I had told everyone regarding the Life-Debt and the new alterations,” Albus started. “Was it the truth?” he asked, trying to keep himself as calm as possible.

Minister Fudge paled. He cast a worried glance in Severus’s direction who was staring straight ahead.

“Answer the question, Cornelius,” Dumbledore snapped.

“W-well… We…”

Snape shot him a hateful glare.

“I-I mean, _I_ thought it would be best if it was believed that young Mr Potter didn’t appear to look suicidal.”

“ _What_?” Harry cried.

Fudge jumped, but continued anyway, still stuttering. “I-I mean, how would it look if the saviour of the Wizarding World would knowingly choose to abandon them, and … and....”

“It would have been the truth!”

“Without any consideration towards _them_ ,” Snape sneered, finally speaking up.

“And what was in this for you?” Harry quickly said.

The Potions master smirked but said nothing.

“You wanted it to look like you _sacrificed_ yourself for me, didn’t you?” Harry said, answering his own question.

“I _did_ sacrifice myself for you, Potter. Do you not remember?” he hissed.

A tense silence filled the room until Albus sighed.

Directing his attention to Fudge, Dumbledore calmly stated, “Minister Cornelius Fudge, I will contact the Ministry, and inform them of the misrepresentation you and Severus …”

“I did no such thing,” Snape barked.

“Liar!” Harry shouted.

“Albus,” Cornelius interrupted. “I take full responsibility for any type of misunderstanding there was…”

“Misunderstanding?” Harry snapped angrily and Severus smirked contently.

“…However, this does not change the decision of the trial nor will it have any relevance. And if the public were to find out about this – misunderstanding, not only would there be a question of the Ministry’s incompetence, but yours as well,” he finished smugly.

“That’s blackmail!”

Cornelius grinned at the young wizard. “No, my dear boy. That’s politics.”

Harry took in sharp breaths and his eyes darted to each of his elders. Fudge was looking content, Snape confident, and Albus… Albus looked defeated.

Harry had lost. Again.

The Boy-Who-Lived threw his arms up in the air and screamed, “Ah!” and stormed out. Snape followed him, and Dumbledore and the Minister stared defiantly at each other.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry,” Severus called out. “Harry!”

The young wizard stopped in his tracks and spun around. “What?” he snapped.

Snape caught up to him. “Where are you going?” he asked almost casually.

“Where? _Where?_ Back to our _home_. That’s where!”

The older wizard raised his brows. “But why?” he asked smoothly.

Harry clenched his fists. “To get ready,” he mocked. “I’m sure you’ll want to _celebrate_ your little victory,” he hissed bitterly.

Severus barely shook his head. “Harry,” he tut-tutted softly. He reached up and caressed the back of his fingers along Harry’s jaw. “I can't believe you said that.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes and watched the cold and bony fingers move against his cheek, and then looked back at Snape skeptically. What was going on?

Severus continued to shake his head, and closed in on his young husband till he was towering over him. He gently lifted Harry's chin with his thumb and smiled.

“I can't believe you know me so well,” he said, a small smirk crossing his lips.

Harry swatted the hand away and stepped back. With a growl, he turned and marched in the direction of the dungeons. Snape's smirk turned into a full grin.

“Severus!” Albus roared from behind him.

The smile left.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry pushed his way through the crowded corridors, filled with students clamoring to get into the Great Hall for dinner. He reached the lowest part of the dungeons, cursing all the while. A low drawl stopped him.

“So, Potter. Finally learn the truth, did you?”

“You!” he spat, whirling around.

He grabbed the front of Draco Malfoy’s robe, and pushed him backwards till the blond’s back collided with a wall. Malfoy winced briefly then glared down at Harry’s fists, still lodged within his clothes. He snatched his wrists and roughly pushed them away. He looked back up to the angry Gryffindor.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

The blond raised a brow. “Me? Do you honestly think that Harry Potter would believe _anything_ Draco Malfoy had to say?” he asked.

Harry grit his teeth. He knew he was right.

“Really, Potter.”

Harry pursed his lips into a tight line. “How did you know?”

Malfoy almost laughed. “He’s a Slytherin, Potter. Plus I know him. All too well. He takes what he wants, when he wants – no matter the cost or the consequences.”

“Like you?” he spat.

The blond advanced on him.

“Don’t you _ever_ associate him with me. I am _nothing_ like him,” he hissed.

“Oh no? You were using me just as much as he was.” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that what you were doing? Using me as a poster boy representing the gay wizards? How if the wondrous Harry Potter was gay then it should be accepted,” he said flatly.

Malfoy clenched his jaw tightly, then growled, “Perhaps.”

“And that’s why you kissed me, isn’t it? To show Snape up? To…”

“I did it to show Snape that I was on to him! That I knew what he was doing!” the blond insisted.

Harry took a step towards him. “I think,” he whispered angrily. “That you wanted to show him that you have as much power as he does. I saw the way you looked at him.”

“You know nothing!” Draco hissed. He pushed his way passed Harry.

“So is that what happened underneath the tree, as well? To show him what he was doing? Because Snape wasn’t around then, so why the hell did you do _that_?”

The blond stopped in his tracks then slowly turned. He walked back over to Harry in what could only be described as hesitant. He paused just in front of him, examining Harry’s soft lips. He lifted up his hand to touch his face but never made contact. He lowered it then looked into the shocked green eyes.

“You know, Potter. If I had thought you were even _slightly_ leaning… that way,” he whispered softly. “You would have learned about my sexuality a long time ago,” he said sadly. “And I would have pursued you properly. I wouldn’t have… _taken_ what wasn’t mine in the first place.”

Malfoy turned away, his head lowered. If he hadn’t had looked up at the last minute, he would’ve collided into the stoic figure of Snape. He backed up a foot then sneered.

Answering an unspoken question, Draco said, “Don’t worry, Professor. I haven’t damaged your _property_.” Then he smirked, “I was just polishing him up for you.”

Severus glared at him and continued to glare until the blond was completely out of sight. He snapped his head back to a guilty-looking Harry Potter. He walked briskly over to him, and then grabbed his arm before half-dragging his husband back to their ‘home’.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Five**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

No sooner had the two of them entered into their quarters, when Harry jerked his arm free and marched over to the open door of their bedroom. As soon as he reached it however, the door slammed shut. Harry spun around and glared at Snape who was casually leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely over his chest.

“What? What _now_?” Harry spat.

Severus remained calm and a soft smile radiated from his lips. His young husband became angrier and stormed across the room.

“You know what? I am sick and tired of all your crap!” Snape raised an amused eyebrow, causing Harry’s anger to escalate. “I give up! I can't take anymore of this! You want to let the world think you’re some sort of a hero, then fine! You're a fucking hero! You want to fuck me day in and day out, _fine_! But just tell me this,” Harry said, closing the distance.

He stopped a foot away from Severus and leaned in.

“Where the fuck is the man who swore nothing would change? What happened to all the bloody promises you made on our _wedding_ day?”

Snape's expression suddenly turned neutral. “Everything I said is true.” He paused and held up a hand to stopped Harry from arguing. “However, you _have_ been making things quite difficult.”

Harry took a step back and took in several breaths of air before, “ _I_ have been making things difficult?” he cried and Snape merely nodded.

Harry spun around and began pacing about the room, appearing as if he was talking to himself. Finally, he turned back to Snape.

“Nothing I’ve done or said has made any fucking difference, has it?” he hissed, trying his best to calm down. 

Severus barely curled his lip and shook his head slowly. Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously and clenched his jaw.

“Well,” Harry began, lowering his voice. “I suppose you no longer have to worry about _that_ anymore, dear _husband_ , because I _quit_.”

Snape looked at him curiously.

Harry went on. “It seems that no matter _what_ I do, I just can't win.”

“It isn’t a matter of losing or winning, Harry…”

“Yes it is!” he said, his voice rising back up. “And that,” Harry snapped, pointing over to the direction outside their quarters. “Proves it. I am tired of playing these little fucking games of yours, so just tell me what you want from me!”

The older wizard furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips tight, almost looking as if he was deciding.

“You can't think of anything?” Harry scoffed. “Well, allow me to do it _for_ you,” he said sarcastically.

Severus tilted his head and arched a questioning brow.

“I will no longer complain about us having to fuck. There's a start now, isn’t it? What else?” Harry challenged, now smirking.

There was a slight pause before Snape nodded. “All right. I want you to spend more time with your friends,” he said, carefully.

Harry crossed his arms. “Fine. What else?”

“I want you to start taking your studies more seriously.”

“ _Fine_. What else?”

Severus thought a moment. “I want you to begin your training.”

“Done,” Harry said with a nod of his head. “Anything _else_?”

Snape looked away, then looked back at him, moving his eyes only. “I want you to be happy,” he said softly.

His young husband gave a short hysterical laugh and covered his face, shaking it in disbelief. He looked back up. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were joking.”

The older wizard’s expression became somber. “I _am_ serious.”

Harry raised his chin. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, _dear husband_ , but _that_ will _never_ happen.” He squeezed his arms tighter around himself. “Of course this isn’t about _me_ now, is it? This is about what _you_ want, so let’s just stick with the facts.” He paused. “You want to fuck me without complaints,” he started, counting off on his fingers. “You want me to spend more time with my friends, you want me to study harder, and you want me to begin training.” Harry tapped his finger on his jaw. “Now. There was something else, wasn’t there?” he mocked, looking up at the ceiling.

Harry lowered his gaze and gave a feral grin.

“Oh yes.” He walked up to Snape and reached for the buttons on his robe. He leaned in and whispered, “You said you like it when I’m in control, didn’t you?” he said, brows rising.

Severus gently grabbed his wrists, but Harry batted them away with the back of his hands.

“Don’t worry. I told you. I’m not going to be ‘difficult’,” Harry said, almost teasingly.

Unexpectedly, Harry pushed him against the wall and quickly finished removing Snape’s robe. The older man protested a few more times, but sharply gasped as familiar lips latched onto his exposed nipples.

“Harry…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus fluttered his eyes open and smiled, remembering last night. It was the most gratifying time they had had together so far. He rolled over to hug Harry but his side of the bed was cold and empty. He sat up and turned his head in the direction of water running. His smile deepened.

Harry flinched as a pair of arms encircled his waist. He stilled briefly, eyes locking on the shower wall in front of him.

“Harry,” Snape breathed, licking the moisture behind his ear. “I meant what I said last night. I really do want you to be happy.” Harry grimaced. “Whatever you want. Just name it and it’s yours.”

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy’s words rang true.

_“So, Potter. Is he good to you? Does he treat you well? Does he give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted?”_

Harry closed his eyes and inwardly sighed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry entered the Great Hall with a renewed sense of anger. If this was what Snape and the rest of the Wizarding World wanted from him, then by all the Gods above, he’d give it to them. He _had_ no more will to fight, and that made Harry angrier then he ever thought possible. So, he’d do what they wanted, anytime they wanted it, but he’d be damned if he was going to be happy about it. _Happy,_ Harry thought bitterly. Since when has anyone ever cared whether or not he was happy?

Harry held his head high and sat down at the Gryffindor table. At first there was an uncomfortable silence lingering in the air surrounding him, until Harry started answering all the unasked questions he knew was coming. Yes, he was fine. No, everything is all right. Yes, they worked things out…. Soon everyone sitting around him – _especially_ his two best friends – began asking questions, as it was clear Harry was going to answer anything. Well, almost everything.

It took days before Hermione and Ron stopped interrogating Harry, demanding to know if he was _really_ all right. But, through patience and the right amount of jokes, he finally managed to convince them. He almost convinced himself.

Almost.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It didn’t come as a surprise to Harry when he learned how the Wizarding World had gradually accepted Minister Fudge deception. He knew they were probably told more lies to cover the old lies, but at this point, Harry didn’t care. It simply made no difference one way or another. He was still married and still bound to his hated teacher.

In the weeks that followed, Harry's grades had surpassed all expectations and naturally, he excelled in potions. His training had become more and more difficult, but with each nightly (and daily) ‘sessions’ – as Harry called those intimate moments with his husband - his powers _were_ growing stronger and stronger everyday. He knew it wouldn’t be long that he’d be ready for _anything_ Voldemort could throw at him. All Harry had to do now was wait.

To those who weren’t that close to Harry began to notice a strong sense of confidence radiating out from him. But to those knew him well, they knew that he was just plain furious. Naturally, Harry would deny it and tried his best to assure them that he was merely obtaining some of Snape's pleasant personality. It was funny to some, but not to Hermione and Ron.

Nor to Snape.

Since that new _‘agreement’_ night, it was Harry who started initiating the sex. He had fully learned Severus’s sexual rituals by now and wasted no time putting it into a daily routine. Sometimes however, Snape would catch him off guard and demand the lead, but both knew who _really_ controlled the activities. Secretly, Severus didn’t mind in the least. It was what he wanted after all. Soon, it wasn’t enough for him. Something was definitely missing. Something he couldn’t place.

Snape began watching Harry more closely, trying to find out just what _was_ missing. His husband’s behaviour outside their quarters had improved dramatically he discovered. He was no longer timid or unsure of himself. It was quite the opposite. Harry was now straightforward, confident, and held himself in complete control at all times. Severus was extremely proud of his young husband… But there was _still_ that missing piece.

It was at the end of the second week since the world learned of the ‘truth’ that Severus saw the first indication of what it was. He had finished his last class of the day – the first years – when he recognised the voices of Albus and Harry just outside his office. Dumbledore was questioning Harry regarding his abrupt behaviour with Professor McGonagall. Snape listened as Harry explained that he had a run in with his friends and unconsciously took it out on her. Harry promised he would immediately go back and apologise. Satisfied, Albus walked away and it was then that Severus saw it.

Harry made an obscene gesture to the retreating figure then whirled around, marching off in the opposite direction. Severus balked. Surely Harry didn’t just disrespect Dumbledore, did he? His long-time mentor? The one that Harry had finally made peace with? Severus ducked back inside his classroom and heard Harry curse as he stormed by. Snape hung his head and sighed. Part of him was filled with sadness, while the other was filled with fury.

Severus waited a few minutes before heading down to their quarters. Harry was towelling off having had a quick shower and he flinched slightly upon seeing Snape standing in the centre of the bedroom. Obviously he wasn’t expecting him back so soon. Harry smiled warmly at him and abandoned his towel that was encircling his waist, letting it fall to the floor. Severus approached him slowly and Harry motioned to the bed. Snape snorted in amusement and complied, but it was Snape who took the lead.

As he leaned over Harry, Severus studied every movement, every sound and every expression Harry was making the entire time. It was the same as all the other countless times they had had sex. By all accounts, Harry seemed to enjoy himself and was giving in wholly to the overwhelming pleasure he was receiving. It wasn’t until the very end that Snape caught a glimpse of Harry in the reflection of a hanging picture.

They were lying on their side with Harry facing away from him and his leg draped over Severus’s. Harry had admitted he liked this position the best because of the added depth it caused. Snape now knew the real reason. It allowed Harry to let down his guard and show his true emotion. His face was expressionless and his eyes were empty and staring out in space. How had Severus missed this? Here was his husband that only two minutes prior had cried out from an earth shattering orgasm. He rolled Harry over and searched for some type of clue in those beautiful emerald eyes. Harry looked at him curiously.

Snape said nothing but continued to stare at him, his eyes mapping every inch of Harry’s face. There was only a thin film of sweat on his forehead and he wasn’t even breathing hard. In fact it was almost normal. Severus furrowed his brows but still remain silent. Harry returned the expression then smiled and shook his head. He gently cupped the back of Severus’s head and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

Snape’s eyes opened wide. Never before that he could remember, had they kissed. _Ever._ But it had the desired effect – Snape temporarily forgot what he just had witnessed. Severus devoured Harry’s mouth as if his life depended on it. When he pulled back, Harry was completely breathless and his eyes were glazed over. Perhaps Snape had imagined it. With that thought reeling, Harry smiled and pulled Snape off the bed and led him into the shower and tenderly washed every part of his body, taking extra care around his reddened cock. It was a rough session.

After drying off and getting dressed, Severus requested that they dine in tonight. Harry agreed. It would be the first time in months. They sat opposite each other, Harry unaware of the attentive eyes. Neither spoke and the silence was becoming unbearable for the older wizard.

“How was your day?” Snape finally said.

Harry briefly glanced up. “Fine, thanks. Yours?”

“Same insufferable brats.”

Harry smiled and buttered his roll. Another long silence. Severus watched his young husband sit quietly and go through the routine motions of eating. This was not normal. _Harry_ wasn’t normal.

“So, I heard you say that you had a run in with your friends,” he said nonchalantly and waited for some type of reaction.

If Snape hadn’t been watching Harry so closely, he would’ve missed the slight pause, the fork just in front of his mouth. After chewing and swallowing Harry shrugged.

“It was nothing,” he said simply.

“I thought the three of you were getting along.”

Still looking at his plate, “We are. It was nothing.”

“So nothing in fact that you were angry enough to take it out on Minerva and Albus?” Snape asked calmly.

This time Harry paused a bit longer. “I told Professor Dumbledore that I would I apologise to her,” he replied evenly, but no venom was in his voice.

“And Albus?”

The young wizard finally looked at him emotionless. “Why would I apologise to him?” he asked and Severus could have sworn there was an emphasis on ‘him’, but said nothing.

“I saw you, Harry.” The boy looked questioningly at him. Snape sighed. “The gesture? To his back? I saw it.”

Harry mouthed ‘Oh’ and stared at his food. “I’m sorry. I was just upset.”

“At Albus?” Snape persisted.

Harry lifted one shoulder. “Dunno. I just wasn’t in a good mood.”

“It was because of Ron and Hermione?”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed loudly. “We just had a difference of opinion. That’s _all_ ,” he said tiredly, wishing Snape would just drop it.

“What was it about?”

Harry gently set his fork down, held his hands in his lap and hung his head. Snape waited but the boy remained silent. He leaned over the table and whispered, “Harry, I’m only concerned. I wish you would talk to me.”

Harry’s eye twitched but still said nothing. Severus clenched his jaw, frustrated. He’d have to try another tact, but couldn’t think of one.

“Harry, they're your best friends. _Good_ friends. Maybe…”

Harry’s eyes pleaded with him. “Why are you trying to start an argument?”

Snape blinked. “I’m not. I just wish you would…”

“Would what?” Harry asked, interrupting him. “What do you want me to do?” His voice sounded small.

“I think you three need to talk about… whatever happened and make it right. Clearly it’s bothering you.”

Harry looked away, nodding reluctantly. “All right. If you think I should.”

Snape looked him, puzzled. “Don’t _you_ think you should?”

Harry closed his eyes again and sighed. “Friends have disagreements.” He stopped for a second then continued, “But if you think I should then I will.”

“Don’t _you_ think you should?” Severus repeated.

Harry’s stomach clenched. “I said I would talk to them. Please. _Please_ can we talk about something else?”

Snape relaxed and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it wasn’t working. “All right.”

The younger wizard sighed in relief. He started to eat again.

“Are you joining them to Hogsmeade tomorrow?”

Harry gripped his fork tight. The man wasn’t letting this go.

“I wasn’t planning on going. I have a test Monday. In Professor McGonagall’s.”

“Harry,” he began and saw how the boy flinched. He went on anyway. “You are well ahead in all your classes. I really don’t think you need to study.”

Harry’s elbow rested on the table and he leaned into it, pinching his nose under his glasses.

“Harry?”

“Fine,” he whispered softly. “I’ll go.”

“Harry, I …”

“I said I’ll go!” he cried out, throwing his napkin on his plate and stood up. “Would you _please_ stop pushing this?”

Severus’s eyes widened and could only nod. Harry closed his eyes as he turned his head then took a deep breath. When he looked back at his husband, he was already standing just in front of him. Harry looked at him sadly. So sad that Snape couldn’t resist taking him and holding him tightly in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispered in his ear, softly stroking his hair with one hand and caressing his back with the other.

Harry’s eyes gleamed. “Thank you,” he whispered back, resisting the urge to grin.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Six**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

An urgent meeting of the Order was called that night, and every member was present, sitting in a circle in Professor Dumbledore's office. The topic of the urgent meeting was the unknown location of the injured Voldemort and his fallen Death Eaters. With each month that passed, the Order had become restless with their need for information becoming more desperate. 

Harry was seated next to a standing Severus, and across the room sat Hermione Granger alongside a very enraged Ron Weasley whose angry blue eyes never left the dark emerald ones. The voices in the room overlapped themselves for the most part, and rose a few times in heated arguments. The redhead still stared at the unmoving, unspeaking Harry Potter.

Harry unconsciously watched the crowd distantly, hearing everything and yet hearing nothing. His eyes scanned over the familiar faces until landing on one in particular. Remus Lupin. Harry's face betrayed no emotion, however his eyes dug deep into the werewolf’s. Harry had never forgiven this man for not being there for him when he really needed him the most. He had been told that Remus was not in favour of the Life-Debt or the marriage of convenience and had refused to attend. Harry had not heard from or had seen Remus since.

As Harry stared at him, one thing became clear. He had been lied to again. The expression Remus held was that of remorse – a kind of sadness that would tear out the heartstrings of even the strongest of men. Seeing this, Harry’s eyes softened and a bittersweet smile appeared. Even from across the room, he could see the falling tears sliding down the werewolf’s cheek. Lupin was forgiven.

Suddenly it became eerily quiet, interrupted by a soft but firm female voice. Harry blinked, removing himself from the trance he was in.

“Harry?” Hermione said softly.

The focus of everyone was on him.

“Harry?” Dumbledore repeated.

“Oh. Yes?”

Albus frowned. Clearly he wasn’t listening. “Hermione tells us that you have an idea how to locate the escaped Death Eaters.”

Harry looked over at his young friend curiously. She nodded, and motioned with her hand, prompting him to speak. He turned back to Albus.

“Um. No sir. I don’t know what she’s referring to.”

A low murmur filled the room. Dumbledore glanced over at Hermione who was looking at Harry puzzled then back to Harry. He was calm, relaxed and seemingly unaware of the sudden tension in the room.

“Remember, Harry?” the young witch asked quietly. “You had a brilliant plan and we were going to discuss it with everyone.”

Harry looked at her blankly. “When was this?”

Shock covered her small features. “It was back in January. Remember?” she asked hopefully. “Before…”

She stopped but everyone knew what she was going to say next.

Before the Life-Debt.

Harry kept his solemn face, and barely shook his head. “Sorry. No.”

The murmurs rose to a low rumble. A large, gentle hand touched Harry’s shoulders, and instead of flinching like he wanted to, he merely looked up at his husband. Snape was frowning. Harry ignored him and then looked back at Hermione, and then Albus.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t recall this plan she’s referring to.” Hermione's mouth opened wide. He ignored her, as well. “But it’s obvious she does. Perhaps she can tell you.”

Harry’s voice was cold and flat, and it sent shivers down Hermione’s spine. She turned away, and stared at her shoes. Ron’s hand immediately caught hers and squeezed it. When she glanced up at her redheaded friend, it was visible that she was crying. Ron covered his other hand over their entwined fingers, and tried to smile reassuringly. It didn’t work. Hermione’s head lowered and closed her eyes. Ron snapped his head to Harry and glared.

Albus Dumbledore watched the interchange between the once-inseparable Gryffindor Trio and sighed. The agitated voices rose higher.

“Silence everyone,” he began. Instantly, the room stilled. “We will converge back here on Sunday. Hopefully by then, Miss Granger and Mr Potter will have a proposition ready. This meeting is adjourned.”

The members quickly scattered, filing out in pairs. The whispers accompanied them. The remaining members, Albus, Severus, Minerva, and Arthur Weasley were huddled together, discussing the recent events. Severus skimmed the almost vacant room.

“Harry?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The rest of the members passed by Harry without a word being spoken. Once on the descending staircase, the chatter resumed. Harry eyed them carefully; hands deep in his pocket and one foot crossed the other as he casually leaned against the wall. As soon as he could no longer hear them, he turned his attention to the two last members.

“Ron. Hermione,” he acknowledged.

Hermione was gripping Ron’s bicep tight, preventing him from leaping at their stoic friend. A figure leaving Dumbledore’s office stepped in between the three of them. He faced Harry.

“Congratulations, Potter,” Draco Malfoy drawled. “You play your game well.”

Harry gave a tiny gesture with his head, indicating the two standing behind Malfoy.

“Oh, I’m sure they are well aware of your contrivance,” he smirked.

Harry said nothing but his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. Ron was just about to explode at both of them when a large, intimidating man joined them.

“Mr Malfoy,” a low dangerous voice hissed. “Your presence is not welcome here.”

The blond turned to face him, a smirk firmly in place. Harry’s expression quickly turned neutral.

“ _Professor_ ,” he grinned. “We were just discussing...“Order” business.” He tried not to laugh at the pale face that was becoming red with anger.

Snape glanced between Harry and Draco. “And?” he said, coming out as a command rather than a question.

Malfoy shrugged, amused. “It appears as if Mr Potter here is incapable of speech,” he said nonchalantly. “Or thought process,” he added. “Any idea as to why?”

Severus took a menacing step forward. The blond remained undaunted. Malfoy tilted sideways to look at Harry’s two best friends, who were hidden by Snape, then back to the tall man. He snorted then turned around and walked past Harry. He stopped short at the top of the stairs before looking over his shoulder.

“I’m curious, Professor. How is it that – how many was in there?” Malfoy wondered aloud, referring to the Order members. He shrugged to himself and finished. “Not one of them had a suggestion or an idea. Not _one_. Why is that, do you suppose?”

Malfoy observed the four of them carefully then tsked, “It seems The Boy-Who-Lived has more responsibilities than I had thought previously.”

The blond scoffed in disgust, and disappeared around the corner. Ron, Hermione and Severus focused back at the passive-looking Harry Potter. The young wizard stared back at them with utmost sadness filling his eyes. He backed up a few feet then turned and ran down the stairs.

“Harry!” Hermione and Snape yelled together. Ron said nothing.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Knowing he had enough distance between him, his two friends and his husband, Harry slowed and grinned wickedly.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus entered their quarters and noticed his young husband curled up at the end of the sofa, watching the blazing fire. Snape timidly approached him, and sat at the opposite end. A few minutes went by. He pushed himself closer to the hurt boy. Harry made no movement.

“Harry,” he began. “You must understand. Hermione told everyone about your foolproof plan. There was no need to come up with another one.”

The young wizard continued to stare at the flames. He didn’t even flinch when Snape's hand caressed his leg.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Talk to me.” Silence. “It’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up inside.” More silence. He cupped the boy’s cheek, and guided it over so he could look into his eyes. “Harry, _please_. Talk to me.”

Harry's eyes were empty. Severus sighed and pulled the youth into his arms.

“Come on,” Snape breathed into his ear. “Time for bed.”

Severus spent the rest of the evening trying to reach Harry. Through his touches, words, soft kisses…even through a slow moving, gentle, loving embrace that he knew Harry liked so well. Nothing was working. Harry had gained enough power that he could finally control his body’s responses. The deadened green eyes that Snape thought were looking directing at him was actually frozen on the ceiling. For the first time, it was Severus who cried. He nuzzled his face in the crook of his husband’s neck and quietly sobbed.

Inside, Harry howled with laughter. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Early the next morning, Harry stepped out of Hogwart’s main door. Ron and Hermione were standing at the foot of the steps talking amongst themselves. Whether through curiosity or a promise, Harry decided to join them to Hogsmeade. As he descended, the two of them looked up.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Ron snapped.

“Ron,” Hermione whispered, tugging gently on his arm.

Harry shrugged indifferently. “Thought I’d join you.”

The redhead’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed full of disgust. “Fine! _Whatever_.” With that he spun around, not caring that he left Hermione in his wake.

The young witch sighed and shook her head. Harry and Hermione followed, unintentionally leaving a wide gap between them. Soon, Ron was in the lead, Harry a few feet behind and Hermione brought up the rear. They were halfway to Hogsmeade when she just couldn’t contain her anger any longer.

“Stop it! Both of you!”

Ron and Harry stopped abruptly, and turned to face her.

“Both of you are acting like a couple of children and I’ve had enough!”

“ _Me_?” Ron spouted, pointing to himself. “I’m not the one sulking,” he hissed. “I’m not the one pretending nothing’s wrong.”

Harry snarled at him. Hermione grunted loudly, diverting Harry’s attention back to her.

“Harry,” she started, a firm tone in her voice. “I don’t approve of Ron’s behaviour, but he’s right.” Harry sneered angrily at her and Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. “Harry!” she snapped. “Stop it! Look at you! Look at what’s happening to you!”

She took a deep breath, and continued in a softer tone. “Harry. I’m afraid for you. We both are. We can sense how angry you are, and you won't talk to us. Can't you see how this is killing us?” She paused. “How it’s killing _you_?” she whispered.

Harry stood up tall. “No, Hermione,” he said flatly. “I’m already dead.”

“That’s it!” Ron yelled. “I’m sick and tired of your self-pitying act!”

Before Harry had a chance to react, a fist landed on his cheek, and he fell sideways on his hip.

“Ron!”

In a heartbeat, Harry was on his feet, and his wand was pointed squarely between the redhead’s eyes. Hermione covered her eyes, screamed at the top of her lungs, and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet in horror. Never in her young life had she had been this terrified. She was about to lose her two best friends.

Hermione’s screams subsided into loud, unsteady sobs, and she lowered her fingers down, tears running over her hands. Ron had stumbled backwards in shock, tripping on his own two feet, and fell down on his arse. But he was no longer afraid. He glared up at Harry, past the wand that was still pointed at his forehead.

“Tell me one thing, _Mr Potter_ , before you kill me,” he said bitterly as he rose to his feet, and not once breaking eye contact. Harry’s wand followed his movement. “Because I think I have the right to know.”

Harry continued to glare, his arm never wavering.

“Is Snape still training you,” he growled, taking one step forward, wand now pressing into his skin. “Or is _Voldemort_?”

Harry’s eyes relaxed as the words sank in. His lips parted, and his arm was barely shaking. _‘My God. What am I doing?’_ his mind cried out. His arm lowered completely and his body began to tremble violently. His heart thumped hard in his chest while he started breathing rapidly. He took a step back, then another, then another, and then taking one last look at his two friends, he ran as fast as he could towards the Forbidden Forest.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Contrary to what people believed, Draco Malfoy loved mornings. Early mornings. It would be understandable for people to assume that since he was a Death Eater’s son _and_ a Slytherin, that he would naturally love the night - the darkness. But they were _wrong_.

It was a cool Saturday morn, and the sun was just peeking over the skyline, casting brilliant shades of orange, pink, and red. The young man smiled, delighting in its beauty. He mounted his broom, and darted off towards it, as if to bid it hello. Draco never noticed that he had flown past the boundaries of Hogwarts, or that he was nearing the edge of the forbidden forest. All he saw was that magnificent sunrise.

Suddenly, a distant scream coming from below caused Draco to nearly fall off his broom. He quickly steadied himself, and then searched the grounds trying to locate the source. It was a blood-curdling cry, and it had sent an electrifying shudder throughout his body. Whoever it was, they were in excruciating pain.

Draco looked frantically for any signs of life, and soon his eyes locked onto three figures positioned in an open field. He didn’t need glasses to see who they were. It was obvious. A redheaded boy sitting on the ground, a bushy-haired girl hunched over, and facing them… _Potter_. He also didn’t need to hear the words that were being said. The wand pointed at the boy’s freckled face had said it all.

_‘Is he mad?’_ Draco’s mind screamed.

Draco Malfoy watched distantly as Ronald Weasley rose to his feet, and Harry Potter's wand followed. At this point, the blond wished he _could_ hear; his breath caught in his throat when the redhead took a step forward, and the wand pushed deep into his forehead.

A heartbeat later, the famous Boy-Who-Lived took a step back, then turned and ran away from his friends - and straight into the forest.

_‘Merlin's blood, he **is** mad!’_

Draco bent over level with his broom, and quickly sped after him. It didn’t matter that he was afraid of the unknown that was surely lying within the forest. Or that the branches were cutting into his hands and his face as he raced by. What mattered was finding that reckless boy called Harry Potter.

The blond weaved in and out, to and fro until he finally caught a glimpse of a faded red jumper off to his right. The young wizard was crouched down, leaning against a tree. Draco made a wide swoop, and landed a few feet in front of him. The crackling of the leaves alerted Harry, and he was instantly on his feet, wand drawn. A second later, Draco's wand was in _his_ hand, pointed directly at Harry’s heart.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Potter.”

“Don’t come any closer, Malfoy,” he hissed. Harry eyed the wand, leaving the steel-grey eyes for only a moment. “Lower your wand,” he ordered sharply.

“Not until you do,” came the cold reply.

“I mean it, Malfoy. Lower. Your. Wand,” he repeated.

Draco's eyes hardened. “You forget who raised me, Potter. I _will_ kill you.”

However Draco may have felt for Harry, his instincts for survival and self-defense would kick in, and he really would be able to kill Harry with no regret. The two boys stared at one another, locked in a stalemate. Draco then took a step closer, never breaking eye contact. Harry’s arm wavered.

“I came here to talk to you, Potter. Not to fight.”

“Talk? What's there to talk about?” he spat.

“For starters, tell me why haven’t you lowered your wand?” the blond asked calmly.

“Why haven't you?”

“Sheath yours, and I will.”

Harry considered for a moment then slid his wand into his back pocket. Draco followed suit. They studied each other carefully, trying to anticipate the other’s next move. Finally, Harry sighed, fell back against a tree, and closed his eyes.

“Go away, Malfoy,” he said tiredly.

Draco firmly stood where he was. Harry glanced over out of the corner of his eye. He sighed again.

“What, Malfoy? What do you want?”

“I want to know why Harry Potter felt the need to threaten his best friend.”

“We had a difference of opinion,” he stated blandly, as if saying it for the hundredth time.

“I see,” Malfoy drawled. “Well, then. Remind me never to disagree with you.”

Harry snorted.

“So what was it, Potter? Was the weasel finally tired of all your pathetic whinging?”

“What does it matter?” he sighed. “I don’t need them anyway,” he muttered.

The air around them suddenly became tense. Harry could feel it, and turned to look. The blond’s fists were shaking by his sides. Harry looked questioningly at him, unaware he said something wrong.

“You really _are_ pathetic, Potter. Do you know that?” Draco said angrily.

“ _I’m_ pathetic?” he said defensively.

“Yes, _you_. Not everyone is your enemy, Potter. It isn’t the world against Harry Potter,” Malfoy hissed.

Harry pushed himself away from the tree. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

“No, I won't shut up. Somebody needs to talk some sense into you, and if I’m the one to do it, then so be it.”

Harry trembled with rage, but remained quiet. 

Draco continued. “All right, the Ministry lied to you and everyone else. All right, a selfish bastard forced you into a marriage. But your friends did _not_ abandon you!”

“Yes, they did!”

“Oh, really,” he said dryly. “So what would _you_ have done if the situation was reversed? Wouldn’t _you_ have stopped Weasley from writing his own death sentence?”

“That’s different!” Harry shouted. “I would have tried to find a way to help him!”

“They _did_ try, you idiot! What more do you want from them?”

Harry wrapped his arms tightly across his chest, suddenly cold. He shook his head, and looked away. “Nothing,” he whispered.

“You know, Potter, the only one who’s abandoned you is _you_. You’re just too blind to see that. What _I_ see is someone who is so caught up in his ‘fate’ that he’s forgotten how to _live_.” Harry shrugged indifferently. “Does Snape have _that_ much control over you to make you change who you are or are you just that fucking _weak_?”

“Fuck you, Malfoy!”

“No! Fuck _you_ , Potter! Snape's not killing you. _You_ are. Just what the fuck are you going to do when all of this is over? Crawl under a rock, and hide like the coward you are?”

“How DARE you!”

“So you were forced into marriage. _So what?_ Did you have to let it destroy who you are in the process?” Draco shouted.

Harry fell silent, and stood there blinking. His blood ran cold.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, Potter?” Draco smirked, seeing that he was finally able to get through to the stubborn Gryffindor. Suddenly, he paused and thought a moment. “Or maybe all you fucking care about is worrying what the world thinks of you because you’re married to a _man_ ,” the blond sneered. “Are you _that_ embarrassed by it, Potter?”

“Fuck you!” Harry spat, getting angry again.

“Or perhaps you’re just too ashamed to admit that you actually _enjoyed_ it. I hear that that’s _one_ thing that arsehole is good at.”

“It’s always about sex with you, isn’t it Malfoy?” Harry snapped. “That _all_ you ever think about. Well, let me tell you something, Malfoy. You can _have_ it.” He stopped for a moment, teeth gritting. “Do you want to know what sex is to me? It’s shoving your dick up some hairy arse, and fucking it till your legs hurt, hoping it will soon be all over. Then, to add insult to injury, you’re expected to reach around, and wank his cock until he spurts his slimy come all over your hand. Afterwards, you can't decide whether to scrub yourself raw to get his foul stench off you, or to vomit all over him. _That’s_ what sex is to me,” Harry declared.

Draco stared at him in disbelief then sank to his knees. “Bastard,” he said softly, shaking his head.

“What did you call me?” Harry asked accusingly.

Draco continued on as if he didn’t hear him. “That bloody _bastard_ had to ruin the one thing that made life worth living for.”

“Ha! _That’s_ not worth living for.”

The blond looked up at him sadly. “So what _is_ , Potter?”

Harry’s face softened then pushed his head against the rough tree bark and closed his eyes. “Love,” he said, his words barely over a whisper.

“What?” Draco asked softly, not sure if he heard correctly.

Harry spun around. “Love, Malfoy! Surely you’ve _heard_ of that!” he cried. “Have you even _felt_ that, Malfoy, because I have! And I _had_ that once!”

Draco froze, now unable to speak.

“I don’t care about fame _or_ money! I don’t give a damn _what_ people think of me! I don’t care whether or not I have _friends_! And I don’t even care if I live or die! In fact, I honestly wish that Voldemort were here right now so he could hurry up and end my pathetic life! People keep asking me what _I_ want. All I’ve _ever_ wanted was… was…” Harry choked and closed his eyes as a tear ran down his cheek. “Was her.”

The blond’s heart sank to his stomach, and felt his own tears welling up in his eyes.

“God, Malfoy, I miss her,” he confessed, his voice breaking. “I miss her so much it hurts. It _hurts_ ,” he repeated quietly. Suddenly, Harry began pacing and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. “And you know the worst part of it? Everyone forgot that I was in love. That I had someone already. Someone that meant _everything_ to me… Ginny,” he whispered softly.

He looked back at Draco. “No one cared that my heart was breaking after I lost. No one was there for me. No one. Not even my _friends_. You’d think that out of everybody, _they_ would be the ones who’d be there to comfort me, help me through that. They _knew_ how much pain I was in, and _still_ they said nothing. It was like she never even _existed_.”

Then Harry’s voice lowered. “No one ever spoke of her again.” He stopped to look at Draco again, directly into his eyes. “ _No one_.”

Harry sunk to the ground and curled up, legs pressed into his chest. “I loved her so much,” he murmured.

Harry laid his head on top of his knees, and cried openly. Instinctively, Draco crawled over, and placed his arm around the trembling boy. Harry unconsciously leaned into him, and his tears flowed continuously. His breathing soon accelerated to the point of hyperventilating.

“Shh. It’s all right, Potter. I do understand,” Draco whispered. “I lost someone, as well. About a year ago. It almost killed me,” Draco admitted. “The pain cut me worse than a thousand knives so I _do_ understand. I do,” he whispered gently into Harry's ear, one hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. 

Harry was now shaking violently.

“Come on, Potter. You need to slow your breathing. Come on. Take a deep breath with me.”

Draco took a deep breath, and Harry followed a second behind. “That’s it. Another one. Come on.”

They both inhaled deeper. “Good. Just one more.”

Harry shuddered one last time as he exhaled an unsteady breath. Draco sighed, relieved, and then hugged him tighter. He kissed the top of his head. Harry nuzzled under the blond’s chin and nodded, not really knowing why. Draco reached down and cupped Harry’s chin tenderly, lifting it to wipe some of his lingering tears away with his thumb. This time he placed another gentle kiss on Harry’s forehead, and smiled warmly. Harry returned the smile then leaned in, and rested his cheek next to Draco's. Draco inhaled sharply at that touch, and then he couldn’t help but taking in Harry’s scent. He smelled so good.

Draco continued stroking Harry unconsciously, sliding his hand up and down his arm. He felt another tear when it reached the juncture of their skin. Harry drew back slowly until he could focus in on the blond’s face, looking as if he was seeing Draco for the first time. The shiny steel eyes were staring back at him. Harry’s eyes lingered a bit longer before dropping his gaze to pale boy’s lips. The intensity of his stare caused Draco to shiver and hold his breath.

Harry leaned in, and whilst his lips never did touch Draco's cheek, it was close enough for the blond to feel Harry’s warm breath. He softly gasped, heartbeat accelerating. The raven-haired boy lowered his mouth even further to close the small gap, and brushed his lips against Draco's jaw. Draco trembled at the tender assault, and clung onto Harry’s jumper, twisting it in his fists. Harry’s lips ghosted over Draco's skin, moving forward until they grazed over a pair of soft pliant ones.

Draco fluttered his eyes closed, wanting this unbearable tension to end, and to simply devour Harry’s mouth in a burning passionate kiss. He restrained himself, not giving in to temptation, and shattering this fragile moment. _‘Harry, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,’_ he silently confessed to himself.

Suddenly, Draco snapped his eyes open, seconds before the inevitable kiss. He pushed Harry back by the shoulders, and watched as the glazed-over green eyes turn sharp and confused.

_‘No. This is wrong.’_

The blond scooted back, panicking, and abruptly pulled himself to his feet, and walked briskly to his broom, turning his back on Harry.

“Come on, Potter. We have to get back,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Harry frowned and whispered, “Have I done something wrong?”

Draco turned his head to the side but refused to look back. “No. No. We just have to get back. Everyone will be looking for you.” Draco mounted his broom, and griped it tight, staring straight ahead. He hoped his pink-tinted face wasn’t too noticeable.

Harry gingerly pulled himself to his feet, and stood motionless, looking unsure of what to do next. He slowly closed the distance and stopped at Draco's side. The blond still wouldn’t look at him. Harry swung one of his legs over the back of the broom, and brought his hand to rest lightly on Draco's hips.

“What did I do?” Harry asked softly.

“Nothing,” Draco insisted. “Now hang on.”

Draco shot up in the air, and pinched his eyes tightly as he felt arms wrap around his waist. Harry was pressing himself tight against his back. The blond had to force his eyes to open to make sure they weren't going to hit anything. It seemed like mere seconds had gone by when they finally landed just outside the Quidditch changing room entrance. He really did want Harry to hold on forever.

He waited till Harry dismounted before he did.

“It might be best if you go in through the main doors,” Draco said evenly and then quickly disappeared inside, afraid he’d stay if Harry said anything.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry glanced at the main doors of Hogwarts, then back to the door in front of him. A hundred questions flooded in and out of his mind.

What had he done wrong?

He didn’t know how long he remained there, but he finally took a deep breath, and decided once and for all that he was going to get some answers. Harry marched in, and headed to straight to the Slytherin changing room. He rounded one aisle then another before coming to a halt. There, in front of him, laid a familiar stack of clothes, and a locker door that was wide open. But Draco was nowhere to be found.

It was obvious where Draco was. The showers. Of course, it didn’t cross Harry’s mind what the blond was probably in the middle of when he came face-to-face with the boy standing under the spray – or front-to-back as it were. But Harry softly gasped when he saw him.

The hot water was sliding down the pale body sensuously, and seemed to glisten in the soft lighting. Harry drank in the sight of the slim male physique standing before him, and was mesmerised by the way the broad shoulders rose and fell gracefully. Draco's feet were planted firmly on the ground, and he was bracing himself on one arm, whilst the other was hidden in front of him. It finally occurred to Harry _exactly_ what the blond was doing. His eyes widened, and he slowly backed up and away, still not able to tear his shocked gaze away from the heaving back. Harry could hear Draco's breathing now, and froze when the boy’s body tensed.

“Damn you, Potter,” Draco hissed.

Panicking, Harry stumbled then turned around, and ran as fast as he could back to Draco's locker. He had to suppress his impulse to escape by reminding himself of the reason he was there. He sat down on the bench, and waited for the other boy to appear. He had a sinking feeling that Malfoy had heard him so he covered his face, and leaned into his palms, elbows resting on his knees. He didn’t hear the other boy approach.

“So, Potter, did you enjoy yourself?” Draco sneered.

Harry jumped to his feet. The boy’s arms were crossed over his chest, and a towel was wrapped just as tight around his waist. The blond locks hung loosely, framing his face. Harry swallowed hard.

“I don’t appreciate having my privacy invaded upon.”

“I…I was just…” Harry stammered.

“Just _what_ , Potter? Just getting your kicks by playing with someone?”

“No! I was only…”

“Tell me, _Potter_. Did you get a good look? Are you now waiting for a close-up?”

“NO!”

“No? You knew I’d be in here. You knew what I’d probably be doing. Isn’t that the reason you came? To humiliate me further?”

“NO!”

Draco glared at Harry then scoffed. He reached down, hooked his thumbs under his towel, and gently pulled it apart. It fell silently to the floor. Harry quickly turned his head.

“Oh, come on, Potter. Don’t get all shy on me now. You’ve already seen my backside,” Draco said mockingly. “Now finish your examination and _go_.”

He should have left. He should have run. He should have, but he didn’t. Harry’s eyes fell to the floor, and turned his head back to Draco. He couldn’t help it. He had to look.

The first thing Harry saw was a pair of milky white legs covered with a bit of almost invisible curls of light blond hair. His gaze rose higher to the contours of his shin, then to the dimples of his knees, and finally rested at the lean but well-muscled thighs. At this point Harry had to close his eyes. He was too close to temptation and he knew it.

“I haven't got all day, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes flew open, and locked with an icy pair. He quickly broke eye contact, and continued his ‘examination’ in reverse. Draco's chest wasn’t as defined as Harry’s, but it definitely was sculpted. His ribs were slightly tapered, leading down to a flat stomach. Harry paused, knowing what was left. He could already see it in his peripheral vision. His attention was suddenly drawn to the slight wavering of Malfoy’s hips. Harry could tell that he wasn’t the only one getting nervous. He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath. Abruptly, Draco spun around, and grabbed his robe.

“ _Enough_. Get out, Potter,” Draco ordered sharply.

Harry blinked as if he was just coming out of a trance – which wasn’t too far off from the truth. He watched as Draco donned his robe, and tied the belt in front. The blond whirled back around, now furious.

“I said get out! You had your laugh, now... _Get. Out!”_

Harry numbly shook his head.

_“What?”_ Draco screamed. “What more do you want from me, Potter?” he yelled, almost hysterical.

“I…I don’t understand. First, you almost … in the forest, and then you…” he motioned with his head to the showers.

Draco's head snapped behind him to the shower, then back to a bewildered Harry.

“First of all, _you_ were the one who was going to kiss _me_ ,” he countered, voice somewhat back in control. “Secondly, _that_ ,” he said pointing behind him, “was _my_ business!”

“But I thought…”

Draco rushed forward, and slammed Harry into the opposite locker, pinning him by his arms.

“What the fuck don’t you understand, Potter? You’re married! Do you understand _that_? You're fucking married! Maybe that doesn’t bother _you_ , but it _does me_!”

Draco pushed himself away, blinked, and a tear fell.

“Now, please. _Please_ get out, and stop _playing_ with me.” He turned around and then whispered, “And don’t ever come near me again.”

Harry stood there shaking, and swallowed hard. “Malfoy, I didn’t mean to...”

In a blink of an eye, Harry choked as the tip of Draco's wand dug into his throat.

“I’m not telling you again, _Potter_ ,” Malfoy said, voice lowering dangerously.

The shocked wizard nodded once, and slid sideways breaking free. Draco wasn’t trembling anymore, but the tears were now flowing. Harry moved as fast as he could, heart beating frantically, and shame filling him. He turned and looked one last time at Draco before ducking out the door. The blond was cowering on the floor, arms wrapped around his head. Harry heard his muffled cries of pain all the way down the hall.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry threw open the door to his and Snape’s quarters, cursing all the way to the bedroom.

“God! How could I have been so _stupid_! How could I have _done_ that to him!”

He gripped the bathroom knob then spun around, hearing that dreaded voice.

“Harry?” Snape asked concerned.

_“You!”_

Severus raised a brow and scowled. “Harry,” he began calmly. “Just because you're angry at Ron does not give you the right to take it out on your husband.”

_‘Ron?’_ Harry thought relieved.

Thank the Gods Harry didn’t say Malfoy’s name aloud. “I don’t want to talk about it if that’s why you are standing there,” he said shortly.

Snape took a step forward, and Harry tensed involuntarily.

“Actually, I want to talk about _you_.”

“I don’t want to talk about that _either_ ,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes.

His husband sighed. “Harry,” Snape said quietly. “It’s not healthy to keep all this anger bottled up inside.”

Harry felt his face redden as he felt a rush of fury storming through his veins. And Snape noticed.

“Look at you, Harry. Take a good look at yourself.”

Harry’s body began to shake.

“Please, Harry. Let me help you. _Talk_ to me. Tell me what's going on. Tell me what you _want_.”

That was the last straw. No more hiding. No more games.

Harry crossed the short distance, and placed his hand on Severus’s face.

“Do you _really_ want to know what I want, _Severus_?” he purred.

His husband paled. That was the first time Harry ever called Snape by his given name. EVER. Snape’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, but all he could do was nod.

“Are you _sure_ , Severus?” he said, almost teasingly. His husband nodded again. “And you’ll allow it?” Another nod. “No questions asked?”

Severus shook his head. “No questions.”

Harry walked over to the back of the sofa. “Then come here.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

No sooner than Severus stood in front of Harry, his shirt was ripped open, and pulled down his arms, stopping at his wrists. Harry held them tightly then spun him around, and bent him over the edge of the sofa. Severus gasped in shock. His belt was quickly undone, and his trousers were roughly pushed down to his knees, making it impossible to spread his legs but a foot. He heard a rustle of clothes behind him, and knew Harry was removing his trousers.

His breath caught in his throat as a cold and wet substance touched his opening. One finger was pushed in, followed by a second, then a third. Then they withdrew as fast they went in. It seemed to be the only preparation he was going to get. And he was right. The head of Harry’s cock pressed against him, and he willed himself not to tense. It slid in easily enough, but there was still discomfort. If he was honest with himself – it hurt. But he tried not to think about it. He thought only of Harry.

But was this really what Harry wanted?

Another push and Harry was fully inside Severus. Harry paused and pulled his hips back, withdrawing his cock slowly – just enough to get some leverage – and then hissed when he slammed back in. He dug his nails into Snape's hips, and yanked him forward then pushed him back, so technically Snape was the only one that was moving. Yes. It seemed that this was _exactly_ what Harry wanted.

Severus’s stomach rubbed back and forth against the material that at one time he had thought felt smooth and soft. Another jab and Snape cried out just as Harry moaned in ecstasy. The thrusts were hard and fast, and Snape had to steady himself by holding his torso straight and level so he wouldn’t topple over. His wrists were still secure in his shirtsleeves behind his back. Incredibly, his cock had thickened, and bobbed up and down with each thrust. He fleetingly wondered if this experience would be more pleasant if he could get his hand on his cock to bring himself pleasure, but he didn’t think so.

Besides, this was for Harry, not him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry’s anger only grew with each thrust. It was filling every part of his sensory system that he possessed. He wanted this man to _suffer_ , and that aroused him more than anything he’d ever experienced. He was getting close now. A few more rams ought to do it.

Harry thrust one last time, stilled, and emptied himself completely before pushing back, and carelessly shoving Snape sideways. His husband stumbled at the unexpected move, and landed on his hip with a soft thud. He looked up at Harry, surprised. The young wizard was fully dressed, and stood over him, arms casually crossed in front. He was leering down at Severus with an evil smirk playing on his lips. Severus stared back, brows crunched in confusion. Harry bent down, and loomed over him, inches away from his face.

“So tell me, Severus,” he said, smiling wickedly. “Did you enjoy that? Tell me honestly now.”

Instantly, Severus’s expression turned cold. “No,” he said flatly.

“No?” Harry echoed, raising his eyebrows in mock concern. “At all?” But before Snape had a chance to answer, Harry knelt before him, and stroked his jaw with his fingertips. “But you tried, didn’t you, Severus?”

His husband barely nodded.

Harry looked at him with a mock pout. “Did you feel lonely, Severus? Cold? Empty?” He paused to emphasise, “ _Angry?_ ” His voice was now bitter.

“Yes,” Snape snarled.

Harry smiled and stood up. “Good.”

Severus stared at him, stunned.

“I wanted you to know how I feel each and every time you touch me,” Harry sneered. “Each time we _fuck_. And no matter how hard you tried to please me, I _still_ feel empty, cold. And _angry_.”

Harry smiled again as he saw the light dawning in Snape’s eyes. Maybe this man had _finally_ understood. Harry bowed his head to him with a cold sneer, then briskly walked to the door, and slammed it shut behind him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the distance, Snape could hear something crackling. After freeing his arms from his shirt, and then using the sofa to brace himself, he gingerly rose to his feet, and pulled his trousers up over his bruised hip. Snape took a deep breath before entering into the lounge and then froze.

The gift he that was going to give Harry – the newest model of the Nimbus collection – was lying in the centre of the room, shattered into a thousand pieces.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

  
Author's notes: > Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When he had awoke this morning, Harry somehow knew that _this_ day was going to be different from all the other torturous days he had had to endure since that fateful morning of being told of the Life-Debt. Harry knew something just as bad - if not worse - was going to happen to him. It suddenly occurred to Harry that this feeling of ‘knowing’ reminded him of someone else, and how _she_ had known that something terrible was going to happen between them. 

And like Ginny Weasley, Harry didn’t know _how_ he knew this – he just knew. He could _feel_ it.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As soon as Harry had slammed the bedroom door behind him, he saw a small movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun his head towards the hovering broom, and then proceeded to storm out of his quarters without giving it a second glance. He barely heard the thousand pieces of wood exploding in mid-air. In fact, Harry was so blinded by hatred and anger, that he never even noticed the way passing students had cowered against the dungeon walls, or the ones who had looked away just so they wouldn’t have to meet his piercing glare. Of course, Harry wouldn’t have seen them anyway. His mind was lost and spinning out of control. This day was becoming the worst day of his life, and it was only mid-afternoon.

Trying to sort out his thoughts, Harry began the long journey of climbing up the marble staircase. He had to calm down or he’d go mad. Half-way up, he thought his plan had worked. But then Harry replayed the events that had already occurred today in his head:

Ron’s icy stare and his cold words. Hermione’s shocked expression when Harry had sneered angrily at her. The fist that had struck him so fast and so hard that he had fallen to the ground almost the instant it was given. The scream of sheer terror that came from Hermione as Harry looked down his wand, and aimed it straight at Ron’s forehead.

But none of it, _none of it_ , was as traumatic as the biting words he had heard next.

_“Is Snape still training you, or is **Voldemort**?”_

Those eight words alone had pierced Harry straight through his heart. His fury was replaced with another powerful emotion. _Absolute fear._ Fear of himself. Harry blinked and had stood there frozen in time as those words sank deep into the depths of his soul.

Harry's body refused to move at first, but then slowly, ever so slowly, he took a step back. Then another. Then another. Then Harry ran. He ran away so fast from his two best friends that he didn’t even realise he had entered the forbidden forest till it was too late. Harry had stumbled over tree trunks, bushes, and rocks, and had bruised several parts of his anatomy as he smacked into several trees. Finally incapable of taking another step, Harry collapsed against the closest tree, and tumbled to the ground. He instantly pulled his legs into his chest, tucked his head between his folded arms, and tried to make him disappear from the face of the earth.

It was the sound of crackling leaves that had pulled Harry back to the present. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was, but instinctively, Harry jumped to his feet, wand drawn. Draco Malfoy stood before him with _his_ wand out, pointing straight at Harry’s heart. At first Harry was furious that the blond had followed him, but with a brief exchange of words, Harry no longer cared. He didn’t care about anything at that point. He just wanted his life to be over and done with.

For some odd reason that didn’t sit well with Malfoy.

_“You know Potter, the only one who’s abandoned you is **you** … Just what the fuck are you going to do when all of this is over? Crawl under a rock and hide like the coward you are?” _

That hit Harry hard. Even harder than Ron’s cold implication. And then Malfoy spoke again.

_“Did you have to let it destroy who you are in the process?”_

Harry had to pause on the staircase because his knees had given out. He slid down a few steps, and then sat there staring absently at the moving stairs below.

_“I don’t even care if I live or die! In fact I honestly wish that Voldemort was here right now so he could hurry up and end my pathetic life!”_

Harry shuddered, remembering. He really _didn’t_ care.

_“Everyone forgot that I was in love... It was like she never even _existed_ … I loved her so much.”_

Harry’s glasses began to slide down his face so he removed them, and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.

_“I loved her so much.”_

That was the first time Harry spoke of Ginny Weasley - and his love for her. He had revealed his deepest secret to the one person that he had thought cared the least for him: Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater, and his long-time rival. For a brief moment, Harry welcomed the idea that Malfoy was secretly working for Voldemort, and that his miserable life would soon be over. But in only one gesture of a comforting arm, Harry knew his confession wasn’t a regretful one.

Malfoy had calmed Harry down with soft words of reassurance, and instead of repelling against Malfoy and his intimate embrace, a warm feeling of genuine tenderness and security swept over Harry. He knew it wasn’t love, far from it in fact, but the power of the other boy’s compassion was there nonetheless, and he had allowed himself to be pulled for a tight embrace. There was something familiar about this. Something Harry couldn’t place.

In that moment, nothing, save Harry and Draco Malfoy, existed in the forbidden forest. For the first time, Harry had felt the heavy burden that had been sitting on his shoulders, lifted. Instinctively, Harry leant into the young wizard, and gently pressed his cheek against Malfoy’s. His lips moved of their own accord, and caressed them against Draco's jaw. Slowly he brought them forward to a soft and compliant mouth. Harry could feel the blond’s breath on his own, and anxiously awaited for some sort of response.

What Harry didn’t expect was to be pushed away…

Harry had meant it to only be a caring and an innocent kiss. He had poured his heart out to Malfoy, accepted his warm and caring touch of comfort, and in return he was turned away. But _why_? What had he done wrong? Didn’t Malfoy feel the same energy that had passed between them? He acted as if nothing had happened between the two of them, and then left him standing outside the Quidditch changing room. Whether it was the Gryffindor or the Slytherin in Harry, he was determined to find out why.

Once inside, and standing in front of a furious Draco Malfoy, he was hit with the harsh reality.

_“What the fuck don’t you understand, Potter? You’re married! Do you understand _that_? You're fucking married! Maybe that doesn’t bother _you_ , but it _does me_!”_

Harry’s face flushed crimson as he remembered. And now that he was finally able to reflect on the moment, Harry wondered why it was so important to him to confront Malfoy. Harry wasn’t gay so why did he try to kiss him? Why did he feel compelled to look at Malfoy’s nakedness? Harry couldn’t stand looking at his own husband’s body, so why did it feel different when he looked at Malfoy's? Was it that Harry was just appalled by the fact that it was his _husband’s_ body, and not per se' a male’s body?

_“And don’t ever come near me again.”_

Harry closed his eyes tightly as Malfoy's words tore at his heart, and how the blond had begged him to leave. He had toyed with Malfoy's emotions - brought upon by his own selfishness. 

The sounds of the boy’s cries of anguish _still_ echoed in Harry's mind. And his soul.

Harry slowly pulled himself to his feet, and started back up the stairs. His legs were just as unsteady as his emotions, but he had to keep moving. He didn’t know why, only that he _had_ to.

_“Please, Harry. Let me help you. **Talk** to me. Tell me what's going on. Tell me what you **want**.”_

Harry's muscles seized. His fingers gripped the banister.

_“Tell me what you **want**.”_

Harry didn’t tell Snape what he wanted – he showed him. He showed him in the most brutal way. Harry would have never imagined himself to be that cruel. That heartless.

_“Did you have to let it destroy who you are in the process?”_

Harry spun around and raced down the staircase so fast that his legs were but a blur. He knew what he had to do now. He had to destroy the one thing that would set him free.

Himself … Or Voldemort.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus felt it first. It was a powerful surge of energy, and it seemed like it shook the entire castle. Snape bolted from the dungeons just as another bout of energy erupted. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the location. The fourth floor.

Snape ran as fast as a young, agile youth would have. He had to get to Harry before anyone else could. Barely out of breath, he reached the fourth floor, and stopped to listen. He knew was so close but he could hear nothing but the sound of his own pounding heart.

_BOOM!_

Snape stumbled backwards, being so close to the shock wave. He quickly regained his bearings, and started banging on the wall.

“Harry, damn you! What are you doing in there? Let me in!”

_BOOM!_

Snape caught himself this time before falling. He screamed louder.

“You ignorant child! What the bloody hell are you trying to prove? Just how _insane_ you are?”

The wall opened up and Severus flew forward, landing on his hands and knees. Gingerly, he stood, trying to keep his composure, and calmly brushed off the dirt that had come from the filthy floor. As he waved the dust from his face, he looked around the large room. Pieces of dead animals were scattered everywhere, and blood drizzled down the walls. His eyes finally landed on Harry.

Harry was standing in the corner, wand gripped tightly. His face was pale, and his expression was neutral save the pressed-thin lips. Harry’s body was as still as a statuette. Snape narrowed his eyes confused, and took a step towards him. In a flash of an eye, Severus was slammed against the wall.

Shaking off the curse, Snape looked over at Harry. The boy hadn't moved.

“You said I couldn’t hurt you,” Harry said flatly. “You lied.”

“Harry, I …”

_SLAM!_

“Damn it, Harry! Will you _stop_?” Snape cried as he pushed himself away from the wall.

“Admit it. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie! It was our wedding day and…”

_SLAM!_

Snape slid down the wall, coughing.

“So,” Harry began slowly. “You're saying that we were unable to hurt each other because it was our _wedding_ day? Is that right?”

Snape winced, anticipating another curse, but then nodded when none came.

“I see,” Harry drawled. “So if I really wanted to, I could kill you now.”

Severus’s eyes widened for an instant, and looked at Harry in horror. “You… you wouldn’t,” he said, lowering his voice to hide his uncertainty.

A dark smile of amusement crossed Harry’s lips, and his eyes twinkled, but he said nothing. Blinking once, Harry looked around, and motioned about the room.

“Like it? I think I’m ready,” Harry smirked. He spun back around to Snape who was now leaning on the wall, holding his ribs. “What do you think?”

Snape sneered at him. “I think you're mad.”

Harry pressed the tip of his wand under his chin, and looked up at the ceiling. “Hmm. You may be right.” He looked back over to Snape, and grinned. “But I still think I’m ready.” His grin turned into an evil smirk. “Would you like to test me?”

Snape nodded once. “Gladly.”

With a mere flick of the man’s wrist, everything vanished. Harry arched a brow.

“Impressive.”

“You're not the only one whose powers have excelled,” Snape said confidently, now standing tall and rigid.

“Well, then. Shall we?”

No sooner than the words had left Harry's mouth, that they both had cried, “EXPELLIARMUS!”

The curse ricochetted off each other, and within a moment’s breath, the once vacant room was filled with barriers that they could shield themselves behind. More disarming spells were tried before switching to the more powerful and complex ones. Bolts of red streams of light filled the air, along with bright violet sparks that rained down from the ceiling.

Harry maneuvered between obstacles, trying to find the ‘perfect shot’, but Snape was too quick for that. He had anticipated every one of Harry’s moves, and deflected each of his curses with ease. Finally, a loud “EVANESCO” was heard, and the statuette Harry was hiding behind vanished, leaving him unprotected and vulnerable. 

“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” Severus screamed.

Harry fell to the floor with a thud, arm raised in mid-motion for his next spell. Snape straighten, and began circling his prone husband.

“So, Potter,” he said with an amused sneer. “Ready to do battle with the Dark Lord, are you? Believe that you are such a powerful wizard that you can do it on your own? May I remind you what happened the _last time_ you had illusions of grandeur?”

Though Harry’s body was frozen, an enormous fire raged through his veins as he listened to Snape taunt him.

Snape crouched down beside him. “There you were, standing in the open field, facing Voldemort. _Alone_ ,” he hissed. “So brave you were… So _foolish_!” he snapped, rising to his feet.

“You almost got yourself killed, you idiot! Do you not remember? If I was not there to save you, Mr Potter, they would have renamed you the boy-who-was-stupid-enough-to-get-himself-killed!”

Harry’s leg twitched. He was fighting the body-binding curse!

“Did you honestly think that your anger was enough to defeat him? It wasn’t!” Severus broke eye contact and began pacing. “All you had to do was give your body to me. Was that too much to ask?” He stopped short, and glared down at Harry. “Having a solid status in the Wizarding World doesn’t matter to me anymore. Being married to the saviour doesn’t matter.” Snape leaned over Harry. “All I want now is you. Body and soul.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed but Snape didn’t see it. He had already turned away.

“I was even willing to share you just to make you happy,” Severus whispered, his back still to Harry. “With Malfoy or even,” he paused to look over his shoulder. “Miss Weas-...”

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Snape flew six feet in the air, and landed with a crack against a stone figurine.

“How DARE you speak her name!” Harry shouted, standing tall and free of the curse. Snape tried to pull himself up. “EXPELLIARMUS!”

Snape's breath stopped as his head slammed against the wall. He slid down, leaving a bloody trail.

“Don’t you EVER mention her again! EVER!”

Snape wearily looked up.

“CRUCIO!”

Snape howled as his body spasmed under the Unforgivable Curse, and his arms and legs flayed wildly like a fish deprived of water. His head shook side to side, and blood flew out of his mouth. Snape's eyes rolled in the back of his head, and Harry finally released him. Snape continued to twitch, and instantly began coughing up blood.

“Did you think I was going to sit by, and watch you ruin my life?” Harry screamed. “And now you want my SOUL?” He approached Snape, wand still at the ready. “Well, you can bloody well have it because it’s already _dead_! You killed it!”

Snape's body instinctively curled within itself as he continued to cough. His eyes fluttered open but everything was one giant blur. He tried blinking to focus, but still couldn’t see through the thick pool of tears. Snape tried to shake off the pain in his head, having being exposed to this particular curse before, but the intensity of this one was different. It was stronger. Stronger than he had _ever_ experienced. The boy _was_ powerful. For the first time, Snape could feel death’s presence.

Mentally, Snape examined his body. A few broken ribs. Possibly a ruptured spleen. And definitely a concussion. His eyes locked with a smug-looking Harry Potter standing a few feet away. Harry crouched down and smirked.

“So, _Severus_ ,” Harry said calmly. “Still think I’m not ready?” He looked up and down Snape's body. “Not sure about you, but I _know_ I am.”

Harry slowly rose to his feet and turned, walking away.

“Now. There’s only one thing left to do.” Harry spun around, wand pointing at Severus’s heart.

“AVADA KED-…”

“EXPELLIARMUS!” shouted three voices at once.

Harry flew eight feet back as if a cannonball had hit him in the chest. Several loud snaps were heard as he struck the cold stone wall. Harry’s body crumpled to the ground, landing in pile of pulverised flesh. Two figures stood over his body - wands still raised - and the third figure that was still bunched up against the far wall, lowered his.

Unconscious and brutalised, Harry Potter was miraculously still alive.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Seconds after Harry was struck down by the Expelliarmus Curse, Madam Pomfrey arrived into the Room of Requirement and, at lightning speed, assessed the situation. Professor Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall was rigidly standing over a prone Harry Potter, wands still drawn. Severus Potter was sitting slouched against the opposite wall, holding his side and coughing slightly. Seeing that Snape appeared to be somewhat coherent, Pomfrey rushed over to Harry, and discovered that even though he was alive, his wheezing foretold that Harry had several broken ribs, and that at least one of them had possibly punctured his lungs. One of Harry’s legs and both of his arms were bent in such an unnatural way that even with all of her years as a medi-witch, the sight left her cold. 

Harry needed immediate medical attention. _Now_.

Madam Pomfrey, unable to shield her anger any longer, walked back over to Snape, and glared down at the Potions master, ignoring the blood on the wall just above his head.

“What have you done now, Severus?” she hissed.

Snape didn’t answer, but looked up and snarled.

Albus finally spoke. “Harry… tried to kill Severus, Poppy,” he said distantly.

Pomfrey quickly walked back over to Harry and knelt down, placing her hand over his cold and clammy forehead. He didn’t have much time. “Spare me the details, Albus. This boy needs to get to the infirmary now!”

Albus and Minerva slowly moved from their fixed stance, and carefully helped Poppy, gently lifting Harry using a strong Levitation Spell. As they passed Severus, Poppy scowled at him.

“Do you require assistance?” she asked - only because it was warranted.

Snape narrowed his eyes and, being the stubborn and proud man that he was, sneered, “I can bloody well walk, thank you.” Using the wall to brace himself, he stood gingerly, and tried to walk as normal as he possibly could.

Harry, on the other hand, was levitated the entire way to the hospital wing, simply because it was just too dangerous to use the in-school Floo Network. Once there, Harry was slowly lowered to a prepared bed, and his limbs were adjusted carefully making sure they didn’t receive any more damage than there already was. After being safely secured to the bed, Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall.

“Out. Both of you.”

“Poppy, Harry is a danger to you and the students here,” Albus began quietly, his voice monotone. “I think it best to contact...” 

“You do what you have to, Albus. I will not wait another minute while you decide this boy’s future. My main concern is to keep him alive. Now go and let me do my job,” she hissed impatiently then turned to Snape who was leaning against a nearby bedframe. “And _you_ will take the furthest bed from here. I will not have you disrupting me.”

Snape said nothing but moved slowly toward a distant bed. Dumbledore, for the first time, looked over at Severus. He frowned, noticing that Snape's attention was solely on Harry, and that the Potions master was not looking at Harry in anger or betrayal, but rather with an unguarded expression of sadness and possibly regret. Albus looked back to the beaten youth on the bed, and couldn't help but wonder just how much of this was Severus’s fault. He nodded to himself as he realised its not just Snape's fault – but his own, as well. A quick movement caught Dumbledore’s eye, and turned back to Snape. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips in a twisted curl. Perhaps Snape had read his mind.

Perhaps. But what does it matter now anyway? Harry's fate was now out of _both_ their hands.

With an abrupt nudge, Madam Pomfrey ushered Dumbledore and McGonagall to the door, and then walked back to Harry’s bed. Without even a glance to Snape, she closed the curtain around her and Harry. A simple flick of her wrist removed Harry’s clothes, and then carefully, Poppy straightened his twisted limbs. Even though Harry was unconscious, he groaned loudly at the small and measured movements.

Snape, hearing his husband in agony, crawled onto his bed, and curled up under the covers.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After fifty minutes, Pomfrey finally emerged from Harry’s closed-off bed, and retrieved a small bottle.

“Drink this,” she said, handing Snape the potion. He snorted. “I’m in no mood for an argument, Severus, now _drink_ ,” she ordered firmly.

Reluctantly, Snape drank the vile and smelly liquid, consciously reminding himself to add an ingredient to make the potion scentless. He looked up at Poppy who in return snatched it from him, then turned to head back to her office.

“Will he live?” Snape said through a hoarse throat.

Poppy spun around, and approached him dangerously. “Since you are his husband, I will tell you. Potter will live, but the damage that you have done to him will be irreversible.”

“That boy tried to kill me,” Snape reminded her, through clenched teeth.

“You may have fooled everyone else, Severus Snape, but I know what you have been doing to ‘that boy’ so don’t you _dare_ try to lie to me.” Snape could only stare at her. “Why _else_ would you care if Potter lives or not?” she challenged.

Snape opened his mouth to argue, but the words had left him. He looked over to the closed-off area where his husband was lying. His expression softened, then looked back up to a furious-looking Pomfrey.

“Will you keep me informed?” he asked calmly, trying not sound as weak as he felt.

Poppy stood there silently before speaking. “Yes. But in the meantime, Severus, you will not come _near_ him. Understand?”

Snape looked back to the hanging curtains and nodded.

She turned to leave. “I will be back in a moment to tend to you,” she said sharply, and walked briskly to her office.

Snape lay back down, but his eyes never left Harry's bed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Later that evening, when she was sure that Harry was out of immediate danger, Madam Pomfrey Floo’d to St Mungo’s to give them her diagnosis. Hearing her leave, Severus slipped off his bed, and walked silently over to Harry. He parted the hanging curtain, and was amazed to discover that the bed wasn’t surrounded by some sort of a Concealment Charm. He gasped as his eyes finally fell to his husband.

Harry's face was paler than last time he was here, and his breathing was deathly shallow. Snape swore he heard wheezing coming from Harry, but it could have been from blocked sinuses. He moved over to Harry’s side, and gently tried to lift his hand, but found that it was strapped to the bed frame – along with his ankles. Of course, he’d be strapped down. Madam Pomfrey was an excellent medi-witch but she wasn’t imprudent.

A sudden loud noise made Severus spin around.

“Severus Snape! What did I tell you?” Poppy snapped.

“He is my husband. _Remember?_ ” he said viciously.

Harry's hand twitched and he softly moaned.

“Move away from him, Severus,” she warned. She looked down at Harry, and saw his distraught expression. “Can you not see how you're affecting him?”

The Potions master looked down at Harry, and sadly frowned, realising. He nodded, slowly stepping backwards until the back of his knees hit the opposite bed. He fumbled toward his bed, watching Harry the whole time. The curtain closed once again, and Snape continued to listen to Harry’s unsteady breathing throughout the night. It was a long time before he eventually fell asleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_“I want to thank you, Harry.”_

The Boy-Who-Lived jumped, and his eyes opened wide, staring at nothing save blackness. He knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted many of his dreams. Harry shivered and pulled his legs to his chest tight. He pushed himself further back into the bed he was lying on.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

_“Merely to say thank you, of course. I’ve been waiting patiently for this moment, and I knew you wouldn’t fail me.”_

Harry shivered again. “Go away.” His voice was getting weaker.

_“You needn’t worry about me, Harry. It will be over soon enough, and you’ll be able to see your parents again,”_ the ethereal voice said in a mocking tone, as though it were talking to a child.

“Then, go away,” Harry whispered, laying his head on top of his knees. He could barely breathe.

_“No, I don’t think so. I want to stay, and witness the demise of Harry Potter.”_

Suddenly, a bolt of light pierced through the darkness. Harry ducked under the bed seconds before the Killing Curse hit him.

“GET OUT!” Harry screamed as he felt Voldemort’s presence inside his mind.

_“What are you afraid of, Harry?”_ he mused. _“Don’t you tire of being the saviour? Do you not wish your life to be over?”_

“Shut up! You know nothing about me!”

_“Oh, but I do, Harry. I feel your anger,”_ Voldemort said in an imitation of a concerned voice. _“You’re angry because everyone has abandoned you, and you're left all alone once again. How much more can you take, Harry Potter?”_

“I can take anything you throw at me!” Harry yelled, now standing in front of him, wand raised.

_“Do you honestly think that your anger will be enough to defeat me?”_

“Harry!” a deep voice cried out.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry gasped and bolted straight up, holding his side.

“Potter!” Madam Pomfrey yelled. “Lie back down! You are not completely healed!”

“Where… where is he?” Harry choked out.

“He is in a meeting with Professor Dumbledore and Minister Fudge,” she replied irritably. “Now lay back down and drink this.”

Harry closed his eyes, and blindly took the phial Poppy handed him. He was thankful she thought it was Snape he was just referring to.

“What was your dream about, Potter?”

Making a face as he swallowed, Harry winced from pain as he held out the container, and whispered, “I don’t know.” Harry glanced up at her, and though she was obviously angry, she fortunately didn’t push him.

“What was the last thing you remember?” Pomfrey asked matter-of-factly.

Harry knew she wasn’t referring to his dream. He hung his head and sighed.

“I remember everything. I…” He took a deep breath the best that he could through his painful lungs. “I tried to kill him.”

A few moments of silence passed then Poppy replied, “Well, it’s good thing you didn’t, Potter. You wouldn’t be _here_ , you'd already be in Azkaban,” she said sharply.

Harry nodded. “Why … Why _am_ I still here?” he asked, peering up at her through his fringe.

She took a deep breath herself then grit her teeth. “I am not the one you should be asking, Potter.” And she shouldn’t be the one to tell him. “Now, lie back down. That potion should have worked by now.”

Harry nodded and lay back down, not resisting when she attached his restraints once more. Not that he could anyway. His body ached everywhere, and was simply amazed he could move _any_ part of his body. He knew that he was struck hard, and judging by Pomfrey's reaction, and a brief glimpse into her mind, it was amazing that he was still _alive_. Harry wondered, if not for the first time, why was he? He repeated that single thought until he could no longer keep his eyes open.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Severus, are you sure you are well enough to discuss this?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Albus,” Snape said flatly. He wasn’t really, but that was beside the point. “Now. May we continue?”

Albus and Cornelius Fudge exchanged a quick look, and then Fudge sighed.

“Very well,” Fudge said. “Severus, you realise of course that Harry will be taken to Azkaban once Madam Pomfrey releases him. He will then be held there until a trial can be arranged.”

“That is my understanding.” Snape said. Then he paused. “What if I refuse to testify?”

Both men’s eyes opened wide. “What?” they cried together.

“I said: What. If. I. Refuse…”

“I heard what you said, Severus! But you can't be serious!” Fudge said, voice rising.

Snape smirked. “Of course, I am serious. I would have not asked if I wasn’t.”

“Why, Severus?” Albus asked skeptically.

“Because he is my husband, Albus,” Snape said simply. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “He _has_ been under tremendous amounts of pressure, and I admit that I was entirely at fault.”

They stared at each other, Snape never once losing his blank expression. Finally breaking eye contact, Albus turned to Fudge.

“Cornelius, I think it best to discuss this at a later time. It has only been a few days, and we have not yet spoken with Harry.”

“And what would be the point of that?” Severus snapped. “You already believe him to be guilty.”

“On the contrary, Severus. I am more than willing to listen to Harry, and hear what _he_ has to say,” Albus said with a small sarcastic tone. “I would like to hear _his_ side of it.”

Fudge glanced between the two agitated men but said nothing. Snape growled suddenly.

“If you like, I would be more than happy to testify under Veritaserum that I _did_ in fact provoke him, and that he had no choice _but_ to defend himself. Would _that_ satisfy you?” No reply. “If you remember correctly, there was no problem the _last time_ I was given it,” he finished smugly. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Are you Severus Snape?”

“Yes.”

“Were you present when Voldemort and Harry Potter confronted each other on October 31, 1997?”

“Yes.”

“Did Voldemort and Harry Potter each cast the Killing Curse?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intervene between the two killing curses, thus preventing the curses to take affect?”

“Yes.”

“Did you witness Voldemort vanish after the attempted curse?”

“Yes.”

A slight pause.

“Did you save Harry Potter’s life that night?”

“Yes.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Fudge glanced between the two wizards who were having another stare down.

“I will need to consult with the Ministry,” Fudge said.

“Of course,” Snape said dismissively. “Do what you must. Is he allowed to stay here until then?”

Cornelius looked over to Albus who cleared his throat, directing the attention back to him.

“Poppy has not given his release as of yet, and until she does, I would assume so. For now, he will stay in the infirmary _only_ ,” Dumbledore said, giving Snape a sharp look.

“He _is_ heavily sedated, is he not?” Fudge asked, addressing Albus.

Albus paused a moment, then, “Yes. I am also assured by Poppy that he is unable to use any magic. Even wandless.”

“Albus, Minerva and myself have already subdued him with a powerful containment spell,” Snape concurred. “Everyone will be safe. No one will be in danger.”

“And you as well, Severus?” Albus asked smiling slightly, knowing that that could imply that _Severus_ was the one that everyone should be worried about.

Snape nodded once with a twisted grin. Cornelius frowned, confused.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It had been almost two weeks since Harry was confined to the infirmary. It was speculated by most that Harry and Snape _had_ dueled, but it was _Harry_ who had received the attempted deathblow. But since nothing further was elaborated, all everyone _could_ do _was_ assume. However, it was a well-known fact that Snape was confined to his quarters - by explicit orders or by his own accord - and Harry was _still_ in the infirmary under a 24 hour watch.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco Malfoy finally found Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley standing outside the Gryffindor common room, talking quietly.

“Granger,” he said by way of greeting.

Hermione jumped and spun around.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron hissed loudly.

Draco ignored him. “May I have a word with you?”

“Anything you have to say to her, Malfoy, you can bloody well say in front of me!”

Draco glanced sideways at the redhead, then back to Hermione. “Granger?”

Hermione pressed her lips together. “Only if Ron is present.”

Malfoy shot Ron another glance then shrugged. “Fine. Can we go somewhere private?”

Ron opened his mouth, but the young witch spoke first. “All right. This way,” she said, pointing to the left.

The three of them walked over to an empty corridor.

“Well? What do you want?” Hermione said, trying to remain calm.

Draco sighed and looked over at a wall. “I was wondering if you…” his voice began to fade. He cleared his throat, and then looked her straight in the eye. “I was wondering if you would help me see Potter.”

_“What?”_ Ron shouted.

The blond cringed at the loud voice, but remained looking solely at Hermione. She narrowed her eyes.

“Why?”

“There's something he needs to know,” he said, offering no other explanation.

“And what's that, Malfoy? How disappointed you are that he didn’t _die_?” Ron spat.

Hermione continued to stare at Malfoy, trying to decide. Finally, “That’s not good enough, Malfoy. How do I know that you won't -”

“I won't!” Draco said impatiently. He immediately closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I won't,” he repeated softly.

Hermione clenched her teeth. Even though she knew the boy was a prat, she also knew Malfoy had been helping Harry. She sighed loudly. “You have one hour, Malfoy,” she said firmly.

“WHAT? Hermione, are you mad? How can you say yes to this arrogant, snobbish, snotty…”

Draco's expression softened. “Thank you, Granger.”

“…egotistical, self-absorbed…”

Hermione and Draco shared a small smile at Ron’s limited vocabulary.

“Come on, Ron,” she said, tugging on Ron’s jumper.

Draco waited outside the Gryffindor common room, and then scrunched his brows at the silky material that Hermione presented him with.

“It’s an Invisibility Cloak,” she stated simply.

Malfoy nodded then mouthed, “Thank you.”

Even if he _had_ said it aloud, she wouldn’t have heard him anyway over Ron’s now-explicit language.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco took a couple of deep breaths before peering into the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey stepped into the fireplace, and disappeared behind a cloud of green smoke. Draco sighed and stepped in quietly. Like the last time he was here, there was only one bed occupied, and, like last time, a curtain closed it off. He timidly approached, and held his breath as he parted the curtain. He silently moved over to stand beside Harry’s bed, and tried not to breathe too heavily to give himself away.

Harry’s body was still save his eyes that were rapidly moving under his loosely closed lids. _‘He must be dreaming,’_ Draco thought. Hard telling what he was dreaming about though. A thin film of sweat coated Harry's forehead, and Draco resisted the urge to wipe it off with a nearby flannel. He flinched when the prone boy’s wrist twitched, and looked down. It was then that Draco noticed that Harry’s wrists were strapped down. He couldn’t help but sigh and look away.

When Draco looked back, Harry’s face was completely relaxed, and his eyes had stopped moving. The blond smiled warmly, and sighed again that the dream – or the nightmare - was now over. But something else had caught Draco's attention. Harry’s chest had risen, almost as if he was taking a deep breath with him. A second behind.

Draco carefully leaned over and whispered, “Potter? Can you hear me?”

Silence. Disappointed, Draco sighed again, and again Harry’s chest rose and fell with him. Draco smiled.

The sound of the infirmary door swinging open made Draco jump, and his heart sank trying to figure out what he should do. Should he risk running? Hide under the bed? Would he be able to risk anything without getting caught? But before he could decide on anything, the curtain flew open, and there stood Severus Snape. Draco's breath caught in his chest, and he stared at him, praying that this man wasn’t able to see him. Or _hear_ him. Fortunately, it was clear that he did neither, because Snape leaned over Harry, and whispered in his ear.

“Harry. Can you hear me?”

Draco's eyes widened when Harry’s wrist flinched again, but Snape hadn’t noticed. Harry’s face remained neutral. Malfoy bit his lower lip to keep quiet.

“I hope you can hear me, Harry,” Snape said a little louder. “I want you to know that I forgive you. I know that you were just angry at me and… I shouldn’t have provoked you.”

Draco opened his mouth in shock. ‘So it was _Harry_ that…’ Draco shook that thought away, and his eyes moved back and forth between the two of them, looking for some kind of response from Harry. There was none.

“Did you hear me, Harry? I said I forgive you, and I'm going to help you.” Snape placed a hand on the sheet covering Harry’s chest, and began rubbing small circles across it. “They want to send you to Azkaban, but I won't let them. You are my husband, Harry, and I won't let them take you away from me.”

Draco could feel himself turning green. He knew that Snape was a selfish man, but this…This went _beyond_ that.

“You're mine, Harry,” he whispered. Snape paused long enough to place a soft kiss on Harry’s sweaty forehead. “Mine,” he repeated. “And I won't _ever_ let you go.”

Draco placed his hand over his mouth.

“I will make up for the times I wasn’t there for you. For not listening to you. I will do anything you ask. Anything you want. Just don’t leave me, Harry,” he murmured softly in his ear.

Snape's hand pulled the sheet down, and stroked Harry’s naked chest pausing ever now and then, slowly feathering his fingers over to Harry's nipples. Draco's hand tightened over his mouth to keep from screaming. How could he _do this_ to Harry? While he’s unconscious!

“Together, we will work it out. Together, we will help you get better,” Snape said softly as his lips grazed over Harry’s. “I love you, Harry Potter. You are mine _forever_.”

Draco felt compelled to jump up and run away, but yet he also wanted to stay and protect Harry. He wanted to scream at Snape and push him away, covering Harry’s body with his own. Most importantly, Draco wanted to _kill_ this man. But … he did nothing. Draco could only stare in disgust at his teacher, and watch as Snape's lips descended down Harry's body, applying soft kisses on it whilst his hand disappeared under the flimsy sheet.

“Soon, Harry,” Snape murmured against Harry's skin. “Soon I will see to it that you _will_ claim me yours forever.”

Draco quietly lowered himself to his knees and looked down, helpless. He shook his head in disbelief, then after gaining a little composure; he glanced up at Harry, and was shocked to see his face. Harry had turned his head to the side, and was now facing Draco! Now Draco _had_ to watch. Even though Harry's eyes were closed, and he was probably - hopefully - unconscious, Draco would somehow be there for him. It was a demented way of looking at it, but it was all Draco could do.

For now.

Through his peripheral vision, Draco could see Snape's head move further down Harry's body until it stopped over what Draco knew was Harry’s crotch. The heavy breathing Snape was making was enough to make the blond sick, but he couldn’t stop looking at Harry's face. Draco blinked several times to release the tears forming in his eyes, and held his breath as he saw Harry's mouth slowly part, and heard the soft and unsteady breathing escaping out.

Draco squeezed his hands into fists, and wanted desperately to reach up and touch him. He wanted to whisper to Harry that it will soon be all over, and that if Harry wanted him to, he would Obliviate this memory from his mind - as well as his own. _If_ Harry would remember it, that is. Draco held his breath again as he watched Harry’s expression tightened. It was almost over.

Snape finally stood, leaned over Harry's cheek, and gently kissed it.

“I miss you, Harry,” Snape said, stroking Harry’s cheek. “You’ll be home soon. I promise,” he said a little louder before slowly turning, leaving the room as quiet as it once was.

Draco finally let out a long breath of relief and bowed his head. A warm sense of relief filled him that Snape was finally gone, and away from Harry. Suddenly, Draco's eyes shot open and his face flushed. He was so embarrassed. What would Harry think of him now if he were to find out that he had stayed and watched? He had to get out of there - if for no other reason but to retch. He glanced up and froze as his grey eyes met green. His stomach sank. Could Harry see him? Had he heard him?

Draco moved slightly to the right, and was relieved to see that Harry was just staring out in space. Draco stood cautiously, and walked as softly as he could to the end of the bed, careful not to use it for support.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

Draco's muscles locked, and couldn’t find the air to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated, still staring at the curtain. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He paused but Draco still remained silent. Harry sighed. “And… I'm sorry for what happened in the changing room. I shouldn’t have…”

Draco threw off the cloak. “No! _I’m_ sorry! I should have _never_ said that to you! I should have never told you anything! How I felt… How I … It was wrong! … And…and I shouldn’t have been _here_!”

Harry slowly turned his head, and looked at Draco sadly. “I’m glad you were.”

“ _What?_ Potter, that was a very private moment with your husband, and I should have _never_ …”

“But I'm glad you were.”

“What? _Why_?” Draco exclaimed.

Harry looked away. “I felt… less lonely. Less empty.” He looked back at Draco, and his eyes smiled.

Draco's, however, were as wide as his gaping mouth. He blinked suddenly when he noticed that Harry was looking over his left shoulder. The blond’s heart fell. Could it be Snape that was behind him? Timidly, he turned around. Madam Pomfrey had her hands on her hips, scowling at him. Draco felt his face redden.

“I'm not even going to bother to ask what this is all about, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco's mouth opened and closed several times.

Poppy glanced between the two young men. “You have exactly five minutes to vacate the infirmary,” she said sharply.

Draco hung his head. “Yes, Madam Pomfrey. I’m sorry. I’ll just go now and I …” Draco stopped as it finally dawned on him what she had just said.

He looked up with his mouth hanging open again. For a brief second, Draco could have sworn that he saw her smile before she spun around and left. He looked back at Harry who was trying to refrain himself from smiling. Draco arched a brow and smirked.

“Glad to see that amused you, Potter,” he drawled, though it didn’t have his normal sarcastic tone.

Harry slowly shook his head and smiled, but then he quickly frowned, and stared down at the end of the bed. “How can he make me stay with him, Malfoy? I almost killed him. I _wanted_ to kill him.”

Draco looked away and barely shrugged. “I don’t know, Potter. But… but he’s probably clever enough to manipulate the Ministry. Like he did last time,” he said as an afterthought.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Malfoy?” Draco looked at him curiously. “I really did want to kill him.”

Draco paused and thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s what he _wanted_ you to do,” he said finally.

Harry’s brows scrunched together. “But _why_ would…”

“Time, Mr Malfoy.” 

They both jumped. It hadn't been quite five minutes, but Draco knew a ‘don’t argue with me if you know what's good for you’ if he heard one.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” he said.

He glanced one more time at Harry, trying to give him a comforting smile, and then back at Poppy. She raised a brow at him, and then looked down at the cloak in his arms.

“Make sure no one sees you,” she warned.

Draco knew better than to laugh. He quickly threw on the cloak, but not before giving Harry one last look. Harry nodded.

“Bye, Malfoy.”

“Bye, Potter,” he whispered.

“Malfoy?” He knew Draco had stopped. “Thank Hermione for me.” Silently, Draco left.

Harry looked up at Pomfrey, then down to the phial in her hand. He nodded, understanding, and she released one of his wrists. He held out his hand.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry was tired and he needed to catch his breath. He had just had another run in with Voldemort, dodging curses, as well as casting them. Voldemort had vanished abruptly when the Dark Lord was struck with seven curses at once by unseen attackers. Harry had received one of curses by accident, and landed face first into a wide bush, sinking into the middle of it. He was knocked unconscious when his head hit a concealed rock.

When he had finally come to, Harry’s head was throbbing, and he could feel blood running down his temple. He cringed as he heard his name being shouted over and over again, and held his head in his palms trying to stop the pounding that was wracking his brain. He briefly stumbled, trying to stand before righting himself, and then walked blindly into an open field. He looked up and, through bleary eyes, he could see a large tree in the clearing. He managed to reach it, and slide down its trunk.

He was drifting in and out of unconsciousness, but he heard two voices before he succumbed to darkness.

“Potter? Are you mad? What are you _doing_ out here?”

_“SssSeveruss Sssnape. Loyal to the end?”_

“Yes, my Lord.”

Suddenly, Harry jerked awake, and he blinked owlishly. How long had he been unconscious? His eyes darted around before landing on Professor Snape that was lying ten feet away. His eyes then fell on a wand that was pointed straight at him.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Harry’s head hit the tree, and he lost consciousness again.

_“I want to thank you, Harry.”_

The Boy-Who-Lived jumped, and his eyes opened wide, staring at nothing save blackness. He knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted many of his dreams. Harry shivered, and pulled his legs to his chest tight. He pushed himself further back into the tree he was lying against.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

_“Merely to say thank you, of course. I’ve been waiting patiently for this moment, and I knew you wouldn’t fail me.”_

Harry shivered again. “Go away.” His voice was getting weaker.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry screamed as the restraints dug into to wrists as he tried to sit up. He fell back on the bed, panting.

“Welcome back, Harry,” Severus said.

Harry’s head snapped over to his husband, and could feel his blood rush back to face as he heard that dreaded voice.

“So. I heard you had a visitor,” Severus said flatly.

Harry paled.

“Voldemort? Visiting your dreams again?”

Inwardly, Harry sighed. It wasn’t about Malfoy. “Yes. But I think they're memories,” he replied, looking away.

Snape stood from where he was calmly sitting. “And _what_ do you remember?” he asked sharply.

Harry furrowed his brows at him questionably.

_“Well?”_ Snape hissed.

“I don’t remember,” he spat, suddenly angry.

Snape narrowed his eyes, but then abruptly quirked his lip, smiling wickedly. “They're talking about sending you to Azkaban.”

Harry snarled. He knew what was coming next.

“However,” Snape began, his smile turning to a full grin. “I have convinced them -”

The infirmary doors swung open. Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge approached.

Now, standing at the foot of Harry’s bed, Fudge said, “Harry Potter, the Ministry and I have decided to charge you with attempted murder of Severus Potter. However, until a trial can commence, you will be placed in temporary custody at St Mungo’s Hospital to determine if you are competent to stand trial.”

Harry looked over at Snape and smirked. He was going to Azkaban after all. Suddenly, Snape returned the smirked, and Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“Minister Fudge,” Snape began smugly. “Will you allow me to spend one night with my husband before he goes?” Harry’s eyes widened. “After all, this might be the last night I get to spend with him.”

Harry looked at Fudge, panicking, but was unable to speak. Fudge pressed his lips together tightly, contemplating.

“I assure you, minister, I will be quite safe,” Snape said, watching Harry’s expression darkened from the corner of his eye. “I have arranged with Madam Pomfrey potions that will…calm him considerably. So he wouldn’t be able to cause damage to me. Or to himself, of course.” He gave Harry a quick wink.

Harry snapped his head over to Fudge. “No!” he cried, but his voice was but a whisper.

Cornelius Fudge sighed, and glanced over at Albus who glaring at Severus through slitted eyes.

“You know I’ll need to get the Ministry’s approval for that. However, they might agree, with the condition that magical restraints be used upon his wrists and neck.”

Snape tipped his head at him. “Yes, of course.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore began, with a deep warning in his voice. “If you think that I will stand by and…”

“Surely, that is my right… is it not, _Cornelius_?” Snape said, purposely ignoring Albus. “He is my husband after all, and I would _never_ do anything to hurt him.”

Dumbledore clenched his teeth, then looked over at Harry.

The young wizard sighed, then nodded his consent. Harry _did_ need one more night here at Hogwarts to finish up with some personal business with Hermione, and if it meant tolerating Snape to do it… He would. He was going to Azkaban either way so it really didn’t matter. After several minutes of silence, Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge exchanged looks.

“Very well. I will contact the Ministry, then inform you of their decision,” Fudge said. “You do understand that Mr Potter _will_ be leaving first thing in the morning.”

Snape smirked at Albus. “Yes, of course.”

Reluctantly, Dumbledore left with Fudge, leaving Snape alone with Harry, but not without giving Snape one last look of warning.

“Not to worry, Harry,” Snape said, smirking. “I promise this last night will be memorable.”

Harry’s stomach clenched. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	30. Chapter Thirty

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry made a face as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Madam Pomfrey had decided to give him another dosage of the Calming Potion after she had seen Harry's distraught expression. Whatever Snape had said to him, it had upset Harry greatly, and she was _not_ going to stand quietly by and do nothing. So, she released Harry's restraints – knowing he wasn’t going to go _anywhere_ in his condition – and then pulled Severus to the other side of the room.

Harry stretched his legs slowly whilst he rubbed his eyes, and then down to massage his sore wrists. He was still heavily drugged, but he took a little comfort in this small bit of freedom of movement. The medicine was quickly coursing through his veins, but Harry tried to stay conscious for as long as possible. There was much to think about.

Suddenly, Harry heard Snape and Pomfrey arguing in the background, and caught sentences here and there.

“I did _not_ agree for you to …”

“He is my husband and it is my right …”

“Protect him? It is _you_ that I …”

Harry closed his eyes. He didn’t have to listen to the two of them anymore. He knew Snape would eventually win the argument. Harry turned his head away, and vaguely heard another conversation going on just outside the infirmary. The voices had risen loud enough for him to determine that they belonged to Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Harry sighed. All this talk. For nothing.

There was nothing _anyone_ could do or say at this point to stop Snape. Harry knew this. He _knew_ it. That is why he had agreed to stay with his husband on his last night here. Besides, there was nothing Snape could do to him now that he hasn’t done already. Of course, that _was_ before Harry tried to kill him. Was that what Snape wanted him alone for? To exact his revenge? To kill him? Harry shook his head tiredly. No. He remembered what Snape had said to him when he thought Harry was unconscious.

_“Together we will help you get better…”_

_‘Better,’_ Harry mused. _‘Better than what? Better than being the saviour? Better than the protector of the Wizarding World?’_ Harry smiled weakly. Some protector. He had tried to kill the man who had protected Harry from Voldemort. And yet Snape _still_ wanted to help him? Doesn’t he realise that Harry might try to kill him again if he had the chance? How does he think he could stop him? Containment spells for life? Daily potions for compliancy? Perhaps Snape thinks St Mungo’s will ‘help’.

Harry snorted. St Mungo’s. _They’d_ probably lock him away for life. Either that or send him straight to Azkaban - the one place Harry had wanted to go to from the very beginning. Harry nodded to himself, remembering how determined he was to go there, and how it was going to be _his_ decision and no one else’s. Harry sighed. Now it will be someone else’s decision yet again.

Harry began to wonder.

What if…

What if Harry was able to make his own decisions now? What would he chose? St Mungo’s? Azkaban? And if he did decide on Azkaban, what would happen to him there? Would he get the Dementor’s Kiss? If he did, he would lose all of his happy memories. His friends. Quidditch. Draco. Mum. Dad. And….

Ginny.

He would forget about Ginny. Harry’s eyes teared up, and he absently wiped them away with the back of his hand. He didn’t want to forget about Ginny. He wanted remember everything about her. The way she loved him unconditionally. Her smile, her laughter, her soft skin, her thick, curly red hair. The way she smelled of vanilla that night. Harry choked back a sob. That night. That _day_. She had warned him that day. She knew something bad was going to happen between them. She had begged Harry to run away with her because she didn’t want to lose him.

_But she did_

Harry had assured her that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to them. 

_But it did_

Harry covered his face. If only he would have listened to her. If only he would have left with her. They’d be free. They’d be …

Together.

Harry wiped more of his tears away, and looked over at the table next to his bed. The potion was still there. The Calming Potion. Maybe if there was still some left….

Harry rolled over on his side, reached over bracing himself on his left elbow, and carefully picked up the phial. He lay back down and uncorked it. Shaking it side to side, Harry could tell there was still some left. He gingerly brought it to his lips, and closed his eyes. Harry swallowed every last drop. His arm dropped to his side, and the bottle fell from his hand.

_‘Ginny…’_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus was feeling very smug. He finally had convinced the stubborn old Pomfrey that Harry would be safe with him. He smirked as he pulled back the curtain, but it faded the moment he looked at his unconscious husband. Something was not right with Harry. He was too relaxed. He was too… Snape gasped when he saw the opened bottle lying next to Harry’s hand.

_‘Foolish child.’_

Snape rushed over, gently lifted Harry's head, and peeled back one of Harry's eyelids. His pupils were dilated.

“Harry,” he sighed. “Why do you always try and take the easy way out?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry!” a deep voice cried.

Harry snapped his head over to where the voice had come from. Severus Snape was alive, and lying in a pool of blood.

_“You stay out of this, traitor!”_

Harry raised his wand.

“AVADA KEDA-!”

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Everything went black.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry couldn’t breathe. Something was blocking his airway. A sudden slap on his back, and whatever was lodged in Harry's throat came flying out. Harry took in a lungful of air, but instead of screaming, he instantly began coughing. He coughed so hard tears rolled down his cheek. A wave of nausea hit him, followed by a rushed sensation, and then the burning of acid as his bile erupted, landing with a splash into the commode. Harry took in another deep breath followed by more vomit spewing out.

Harry closed his eyes, and barely felt a warm flannel touch his forehead, gently rubbing across it. A slight pressure on it guided him backwards, and he noted that he was now pressed against a clothed person. Since he was able to feel the soft material so vividly, Harry knew it meant one thing. He was naked. A mental examination of his body verified it. It also told Harry something else.

Both of his wrists were confined in metal restraints.

Harry panicked.

“Shh, Harry. Relax.”

The voice was soothing, but it couldn’t stop Harry from shivering. Through blurry eyes, he noticed for the first time that his glasses were no longer on his face. He inwardly flinched when he felt himself being lifted to his feet by his underarms, and had no choice but to stand with assistance given his present weakened state. An arm wrapped behind his back, and another pushed at the back of his knees. He was about to be carried.

Before the thought of ‘where to’ entered into his mind, Harry could feel his feet slowly descend into hot water, followed by his arse, and then the rest of his body. The arms that had surrounded him left briefly, and Harry sank down into the soothing liquid. Without even realising it, he let out a sigh of contentment.

“That’s it, Harry,” his husband whispered.

Harry had closed his eyes, but they instantly snapped open when he heard Snape's voice, and gasped as his back was pushed forward, and a nude body slid in behind him.

“Shh. It’ll be all right. You’ll see,” Snape softly said. “You took too much of the Calming Potion, and I had to administer a counter one to eliminate it.” His voice was calm and even, but there was no mistaking the reprimanding tone.

Harry's head lolled back enough to press into Snape's chest, and he looked up at him. Snape reached for a bar of soap, and lathered up a washrag, ignoring his questioning gaze. He began stroking Harry's neck, shoulders and arms, cleaning away all traces of sweat.

“Why-?” Harry rasped painfully.

Harry sensed rather than saw the goblet fly into Snape's open hand.

“Try not to talk. Your throat is still too raw. Here, drink this. It is only water.”

Harry parted his lips, and sighed as the cool liquid quenched his thirst. The cup moved away and Harry whimpered. He heard a soft clink as Snape set it down on the linoleum.

“You can't have too much just yet. You will only make yourself sick.”

Harry managed a small nod, then closed his eyes. He tried to focus on what had happened recently. Fudge. Dumbledore. Pomfrey. Snape. The infirmary. He knew that he was in the infirmary when he had blacked out. He tried to remember beyond that, but his mind was too fuzzy. He tried harder. The Calming Potion. Snape had mentioned the Calming Potion, and that he had to eliminate it from his system.

Suddenly, Harry tensed, remembering. Ginny.

“Harry,” Snape said, drawing him out of his realisation. “Put your mind at ease. We will work it out… together.”

Before Harry could attempt a response, he was lifted once again, dried off and was carried into the bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. His body melted into the mattress as soon as he was laid down on his back, and he was quickly encased within a soft duvet. The bed dipped by his side, and Harry raised his eyes to meet Snape's.

“What… why…” Harry whispered, trying to keep his voice low and relaxed.

Snape sighed and looked away. It seemed as if he was deep in thought. After a few moments, he looked back at Harry then reached over to retrieve Harry's glasses.

“I know you have a lot of questions, Harry,” he began, sliding on Harry's glasses. “Take a small sip of this, and it will soothe your throat temporarily. Enough to speak without discomfort.”

Harry swallowed what he was offered, then nodded that he had received enough.

When the phial was taken away, Harry whispered, “Why are you doing this to me?” Harry was beyond fighting. He only wanted answers.

Snape inhaled sharply then let it out slowly. He gazed into sad, pleading emerald eyes.

“Please, Severus. Tell me the truth. Why? Why me?”

Snape quickly responded, “Why? Harry, do you really think so little of yourself?” Harry frowned, confused. Snape shook his head in disbelief. “You are well-loved, well-respected, honourable, courageous, and,” he paused to add a small smile. “strikingly handsome.”

Harry looked at him pensively. “So,” he began slowly. “You wanted me because of what I represent?”

Snape smile turned into a full grin. “No, Harry. I just wanted _you_.”

Harry’s eyes hardened. “Without any consideration to what _I_ wanted,” he said, now angry. Snape continued to smile. “And you used that day to obtain what you wanted.”

“It was my right, was it not?”

“Why did…” Harry stopped to control his breathing. “Why did you turn into such a… _bastard_?”

“And what about you, Harry?” Snape countered. “Why did you keep fighting me? Fighting the truth? If you would have just accepted your responsibilities, we wouldn’t be where we are now, now would we?”

Harry glared at him defiantly. “You turned into a selfish bastard.”

“And you turned into a spoiled child,” Snape quickly retorted. Harry clenched his jaw but said nothing. “You behaved worse than that of a two-year old. Did you honestly think I was going to commend you for that?”

“You treated me like shit.”

Snape sat back and smirked. An uncomfortable silence past before he spoke again. He leaned over so that his body crossed over Harry’s, placing a hand on either side of Harry’s face. “I would have treated you like a king if you’d have let me.”

Harry clenched his jaw again. He looked away thinking, then glanced back over, moving just his eyes. “And that’s why you treated me the way you did,” Harry went on, ignoring Snape's so-called admission. “You were only happy when you got what you wanted.” It wasn’t a question.

Snape arched a brow, and slightly pulled back. “Of course. It’s human nature, is it not?”

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Happy when I pleased you, and angry when I didn’t,” he said – more to himself than to Snape. Harry inwardly shook his head. “Your obedient husband,” Harry whispered. “Your…property.”

“Contrary to what Mr Malfoy said,” Snape interrupted angrily. “and you should know this as well as I, he is a rich, spoiled brat, and is only jealous of the fact that I have something he cannot. He is used to getting his way, no matter the consequences.”

Harry raised both brows, mockingly.

Snape bent over until his face hovered above Harry's. “But his intentions were not honourable, Harry.” He gently caressed Harry's cheek. “Mine are,” he whispered. “He would have used you, and then spat you out once he was finished. I, on the other hand,” he said, wetting his lower lip. “am willing to give you anything you want - so long as I can call you my own.” Snape pulled back just enough for Harry to focus properly. “And I’ll do _anything_ to make you happy.”

“Even share me,” Harry said bitterly.

Snape rose to his arms, hands aside of Harry’s face, and bowed his head. A slow and unsteady breath was heard. When Snape had finally managed to look at him, Harry noticed the tear tracks.

“I am so sorry, Harry. I should have never said that. I was… desperate. I thought I was losing you, and I would've said anything to keep you,” Snape said, looking away. He turned back, leaned down, and looked straight into Harry's eyes. “I love you, Harry. I live and breathe for you.” He bent over, and brushed his lips against Harry's. “I’d die for you, Harry Potter.”

Harry's eyes widened, and watched as Snape lowered himself, and gently lay across his chest, making sure not to put too much pressure on him.

“Don’t leave me, Harry,” Snape whispered. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me.”

Harry held his breath for what seemed like minutes, and then released a shaky sob. So, this is what it always comes down to, isn’t it? Play the game or lose everything. Harry had both played _and_ lost. Now what? Azkaban? Death?

Or… Survival.

_“What **I** see is someone who is so caught up in his ‘fate’ that he’s forgotten how to **live**.”_

Should he just accept what he cannot change? Harry sighed and looked down at the cowering figure lying across his body. Suddenly, Harry blinked rapidly as a thought occurred to him. Voldemort. What about Voldemort?

“Voldemort…I still need to…” he breathed heavily.

Snape sat up quickly, and a small smile appeared. “You needn’t worry about Him, Harry. I’ll take care of Him. I’ll take care of everything.”

Harry frowned suspiciously.

Snape reached over to the bedside table, and pulled out a small bottle. He uncorked it, and brought it up to Harry's lips. “Here. Drink this.” Panicking, Harry’s eyes widened. “Don’t worry, Harry. It’s only a Dreamless Potion. Wouldn’t want Voldemort invading your dreams again, now would we?” he said with a sly wink.

Still frowning, but too tired to fight, Harry took a small sip, and could feel the effects take place immediately. His eyes opened and closed several times, trying hard to resist. Snape leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I promise you, Harry. Soon, you will never have to think about Him _or_ that night ever again,” he whispered.

Harry’s eyes widened one last time before darkness surrounded him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus busied himself in his private lab, silently cursing. He should have known it would have come down to this. Voldemort was now the only thing obstructing his happiness. That creature would always be there. Between them. He needed to put an end to it.

_Now_

He didn’t want to have to do this to Harry. He had hoped that the concussion, and the amnesia it had caused, would have been permanent.

Snape closed his eyes and sighed.

_‘Yes. He will remember sooner or later.’_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Potter.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open. “What…what happened? Where am I?” he gasped.

“What do you remember?”

“I…” Harry looked around, but could see nothing but sky. He winced in pain from the blow to his head. “What happened?”

“I saved you, Potter.”

And then he waited.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, you did,” he whispered as if he remembered.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus had always had the ingredients – just in case. He couldn’t have made it though until needed. It would have spoilt in less than a day. He stared at the potion brewing, and took a deep breath. It needed an hour.

Snape silently wondered if there was a potion for guilt. He quickly shook his head, and began to stir. He loved Harry, and that’s all that mattered now.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry bolted up and screamed. He held his head tightly as if it was on fire. It hurt so bad it brought tears to his eyes. But as quickly as it began, the pain subsided, and Harry collapsed back on the bed panting.

What had happened? Was he in the infirmary? Where was he?

Harry sighed in relief as he realised that he was safe and sound in his quarters. _Their_ quarters. He sighed again.

Now there was only one last thing he had to do before resigning to his fate.

Harry rolled over, and pulled the duvet down, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He noticed that he was now fully clothed. When did that happen? Bracing himself, he stood slowly, and swayed once as blood rushed to his head. It was hurting again. But why? Shaking away his questions for the time being, he gained his bearings, and blindly walked over to the direction where he knew the door was. Harry leaned on the bedroom doorframe and blinked, trying to focus.

What was wrong with him? Was it the potion?

Harry staggered into the lounge, and made his way over to where his desk was. He climbed the three steps, plopped down in the chair, and laid his head on his folded arms. _‘Finally,’_ he thought. Careful not to get another head rush, Harry raised himself slowly up, and sat back in the chair. He pulled at his desk drawer with trembling hands, and it slid open with ease. He reached in, and pulled out a piece of parchment, and his quill and ink. He stared numbly at them.

Where to begin?

His clothes? Throw away. His broom? To Ron. His money? Harry snapped open his eyes - he didn’t even realise that they had closed.

_‘Must concentrate.’_

Harry held onto his quill, and stared out into space. His head was still swimming.

_“I saved you, Potter.”_

What? Where had that come from? It was Snape's voice, Harry was sure of it. He scanned the room through bleary eyes. He wasn’t there.

_‘Was it …from that night?’_

Harry was told over and over again that Snape had saved him. Everyone told him that. Snape was even given Veritaserum to validate it. But what…what exactly _happened_ that night? Those last few moments with Voldemort? It was one thing that Harry had always wanted to know. He hated not knowing. No one could tell him and he never asked. Why didn’t he ever ask? Was it because he so caught up in just being alive? Or was it because he thought he would have never been able to defeat Voldemort on his own?

_‘Yes.’_

It was his own incertitude in himself that kept him from asking.

A glint of something caught Harry's eyes, and snapped him back to the present. He looked down at the parchment. A glob of ink had fallen from the tip of his quill, and was it quickly spreading. Harry placed the quill in his cauldron, and pulled on the drawer to retrieve a new parchment. It wouldn’t open. Harry pulled at it again. It didn’t budge. Gathering all the strength he could muster, Harry yanked on the handle and the drawer flew open. A small, clear ball with an arrow in the center of it rolled forward.

Harry blinked.

He carefully picked it up and stared at it.

_“The arrow will spin if someone around you is lying.”_

He was now fully awake.

“My name is Harry Potter.”

The arrow didn’t move.

“I love Quidditch.”

Nothing. Harry smiled for the first time in a long time. Enjoying his new toy, he continued happily.

“Ron hates chess.”

The arrow began spinning and Harry beamed. This was fun.

“Hermione hates Ron.” It didn’t stop. “They hate each other.” Spinning. “They’ve never kissed.”

Harry expected the arrow to stop, but it continued to spin. Harry paled as it dawned on him what that meant.

They had kissed.

_‘They DID?’_

Harry began to laugh. Of course they did. He should have known.

“They’ve never… shagged,” he whispered, slightly embarrassed.

The arrow stopped abruptly, and Harry exhaled loudly, but mentally shook his head as soon as he did. There was no reason for him to be relieved. That _was_ their business, after all.

Suddenly, Harry’s face paled again, thinking of what else to say.

“Snape and I … shagged.”

The arrow didn’t move.

“He … he loves me.” Nothing. “He...” Harry swallowed hard. “He protected me.” Nothing.

Harry sighed. It was true then. Snape had saved him. His hands fell to his lap, the ball still cupped in his palm. Harry jolted when he saw Snape. Where had he come from? Was he always there? Did he hear everything? Harry bowed his head as he heard glasses clinking on the bar.

“What are you doing up? You're supposed to be resting.”

“I – I wanted to write a letter,” he whispered.

Snape turned his back to him to pour himself a drink. “Oh? To whom?”

“Uhm. To myself. Just … wanted to write some things down.”

Snape looked over his shoulder. “I see. Any particular reason why?”

Harry glanced up quickly, then back down to the ball. “No. Not really.”

He felt rather than saw Snape nod. His eyes remained on the arrow.

“Severus?”

“Yes?” Snape replied after downing a bit of alcohol.

“What… what happened that night?”

Harry peered up through his fringe. Snape had frozen in mid-motion. Several seconds past.

Finally, “What night?”

Harry took a deep breath. “ _That_ night. With Voldemort.”

He heard Snape sigh.

Snape turned around, and looked at Harry sadly. “Harry,” he began quietly. “You’ve been through quite a lot recently. You shouldn’t be worrying about…”

“I know,” Harry said, interrupting. “It’s just…. I mean I remember _some_ things – most things – but…something’s missing.” He stared at the ball again without knowing why. “I just want to know what it is.”

“Harry,” Snape began again, this time his tone sounded tight. “I told you what happened. The Ministry told you. It’s pointless to go over it again.”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

Snape sighed loudly. “Harry, I don’t want to see you upset, but talking about it won't change anything.”

Harry nodded again. “I know,” he whispered.

A moment of silence had past.

“Harry, I’m worried about you. Everyone is.” Harry nodded, eyes locked on the ball. “Madam Pomfrey asked about you.”

The arrow spun once. Harry’s eyes opened wide, and he quickly looked up to see if Snape had seen his shocked expression. He hadn't.

“She did? Just now?”

“Yes.” The arrow spun faster. “She’s worried about you, as well.” The arrow stopped.

Harry began breathing heavily, and his heartbeat accelerated.

“Harry? You look a little green. Perhaps you should lie down. I told you that you needed more rest.”

“NO!” Harry cried and Snape narrowed his eyes. “I mean no. No, I’m just fine. Really. I just…want to stay awake. To talk with you some more.” He looked at Snape with as much feeling for the man as he could manage.

It worked.

“Very well.” Snape poured himself another drink.

“Severus?”

“Yes?”

“I... want to thank you.” He glanced up briefly.

“For what?”

“Saving me that night.”

“Harry…”

“No, really. I never thanked you.”

Snape smiled. “You’re welcome,” he said before taking another sip.

“I don’t… want anymore secrets between us,” Harry whispered. He could see Snape turn slightly in his peripheral vision. “I want,” he began and swallowed hard. “I want it to work out between us.”

The arrow spun.

Harry flinched when he heard the glass fall onto the bar.

“You… you do?” Snape asked breathlessly. “Harry…”

Harry quickly continued. “That’s why I wanted to ask about that night.” He glanced up again. “So we can start fresh.” He managed a smile.

“What,” Snape began. He cleared his throat. “What is it you want to know?”

“Well,” Harry started carefully. “You saved me.”

“Yes.”

The arrow slowed.

“That night.”

“Yes.”

The arrow spun faster. And so did Harry’s heart rate. Snape _had_ saved Harry. Just not that night? Suddenly, Harry couldn’t speak. His throat was too dry. He swallowed hard.

“T-tell me what happened.”

He heard Snape sigh – almost in relief. But why was he relieved?

“I found you in front of a large tree.”

“The one outside of Hogwarts?”

“Yes.”

The tree? THE tree? _Harry’s_ tree?

“Go on,” Harry whispered.

“You were hurt. Badly. By the time I had moved close enough to assist you, Voldemort appeared.” The arrow was still. “You had lost consciousness, and Voldemort used that moment to try and kill you.”

The arrow was silent.

“And then?” he choked.

“Harry. Please. Enough for tonight.”

Harry snapped his head up. “No. _Please._ Please, tell me!”

Snape sighed. “You had awoken before He had the chance. When I tried to help you, He accused me of being a traitor, and used the Expelliarmus Curse on me.”

The arrow never moved.

Snape continued. “When I finally came to, both of you had your wands drawn.”

The arrow was still, but Harry held his breath.

“You both cast the Killing Curse.”

Nothing.

“A-and?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I had intervened, and stopped His curse before He could finish saying it. And because my curse hit Him first, your curse never touched Him. He used the Expelliarmus Curse on you just before He disappeared. That’s why you hit your head, knocking you unconscious.”

The ball rocked in Harry's hand as it spun out of control. He hid the ball tightly in his fist, and his face lost all of its blood. He immediately began to feel dizzy. He knew was going to be sick.

Harry flinched violently when Snape cupped his chin and lifted it up.

“Harry. I told you this would only upset you. Rest now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Harry could only blink. He was too shocked to move. Too shocked to say anything.

“I’ve made something that will heal you, Harry.” He leaned down and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. “He won't ever bother you again. I promise.” He kissed him again. “I’ll take care of everything. All right?”

Harry nodded, his face still white.

Snape helped Harry up, and led him to the bedroom. Harry held onto the ball, trying desperately to hide it. Climbing in bed, he looked over to Snape's retreating back. He could have sworn he heard him whisper,

“You won't ever have to think of Him again.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	31. Chapter Thirty One

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty One**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was two hours before sunset when Ron finally found Hermione sitting under a large tree. She had disappeared shortly after their ‘discussion’ with Dumbledore and Fudge. It was three to one, but Fudge had stood his ground, and insisted Snape had the right to spent one last night with his husband - with the condition that Snape _and_ Harry were willing, and that Harry would be restrained from doing magic. Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione argued that it was _Harry_ who was in danger – not Snape.

But Harry _had_ agreed. And Hermione ran off crying.

Ron had searched everywhere for her – always ending back at the library time, and time again. Madam Pince was not pleased, needless to say. Seeing that Hermione was not at the Gryffindor table for dinner, Ron had questioned everyone. He had been relieved to hear from Padma Patil that she had seen Hermione, sitting outside under the tree. _‘The tree,’_ Ron thought absently. _‘What was so bloody special about that tree?’_

After grabbing a blanket from off his bed, Ron headed down to her. He approached her quietly, and noticed that she was slumped over shivering – from the cool air or her possible tears, he didn’t know. Ron gently draped the blanket over Hermione, and she didn’t even flinch at the unexpected touch. He sat down next to her, and without a second thought, placed his arm around her. She immediately leaned towards him.

They sat there silently for a few minutes, Ron not daring to say a word, and Hermione buried her face into Ron’s jacket. He rubbed her arms up and down, part in comfort, part in warming her. Finally, she looked up. As he suspected, Hermione was crying.

“We… we need to do something,” she said softly, her voice cracking. Ron nodded but said nothing. “I feel so helpless, Ron.”

Ron held her tighter. “I know. I feel the same way -”

“Harry _needs_ us. What if Snape…what if something happens to Harry? What if…”

“Hey,” Ron said, lifting her chin with his hand. “He won't hurt him. He might…” he paused, not able to finish that train of thought. He swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m sure he won't -”

“We have to do something!” Hermione cried.

Ron pulled her in for a tight hug. “Shh. I know,” he whispered.

A few more minutes went by.

“Are you still mad at him?” Hermione asked, finally breaking the silence. Her voice was muffled, but Ron had heard her anyway.

Ron pulled back and raised her head again. “No, of course not!” he blurted out, but then quickly sighed to calm down. “Of course not, Hermione. I know why he did it.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. After a few seconds, she looked back up. “He almost killed him, Ron. He almost -”

“But he _didn’t_ , Hermione.” She bowed her head and nodded again. “He should have though,” he said, teasingly.

Hermione looked at him in horror.

“I’m joking, Hermione,” Ron assured her, stroking her cheek. “I was only joking.”

She attempted a small smile but failed. She looked at the sun that was nearing the horizon.

“He used to sit out here with Ginny. It was their favourite place,” she whispered, and a tear ran down her face.

Ron wrapped both arms around her. He remembered what was special about the tree now. “I know,” he said, nuzzling into her hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.” He leaned down, and kissed her tear track. “ _You_ will think of something.”

Hermione leaned back against Ron, and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Ron sighed and squeezed her possessively. “He wasn’t in his right mind, Hermione,” he whispered. “Snape was the one who was responsible for Harry's behaviour. He should be the one -”

Hermione tensed, pulled away from him, and knelt in front of him.

“Of course! That’s it!”

Ron’s eyes widened. “What?”

Hermione jumped to her feet. “Come on!” she yelled, stepping out of the blanket.

“Where?”

“To the library!” she screamed, running towards the castle.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco Malfoy was sitting high up on the Quidditch bleachers, staring at the sunset. He had been there for five hours now, but he hadn't noticed. He shivered every now and then from the cold, but he hadn't noticed that either. If only there was something he could do. Something he _should've_ done.

But what?

Draco sighed and looked down at the castle. Harry was alone. With _him_.

He took a deep breath of the cold air, and closed his eyes. For the hundredth time in five hours, he wondered if Harry was all right. Shaking away the horrid thoughts of his imagination, he stood and mounted his broom. Without realising it, he flew directly to Hogwart’s main doors, and not the Quidditch changing room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry listened intently at the sound of Snape's footfalls fading into the distance. He clutched the small ball tightly in his fist. Once he was sure Snape was gone, Harry bolted out of bed, ran out of the bedroom, through the lounge, and out into the corridor. He had completely forgotten about the in-house Floo Network.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco wearily walked towards the dungeons, and made it as far as the descending stairs. He sat down at the top, laid his broom over his lap, and bent over.

He felt so helpless.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry slipped several times on the cold stone floor, caught himself on the wall, and then continued running. Panicking, he looked back several times waiting for Snape to suddenly appear. But no one was there. Soon, gasping turned into wheezing, and Harry knew he’d never make it. He was too drugged, and his reflexes were too slow.

Snape would eventually catch him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco snapped his head up. He had heard something. It was the sound of bare feet slapping on the ground. Someone was running towards him. He jumped to his feet and waited. His breath all but left him when he saw Harry Potter stumbling towards him.

“Potter?” he cried out.

Harry looked up. He was terrified. “He … he…” he gasped, falling to his hands and knees.

“What did he _do_ to you?” Draco yelled, running over to him.

Harry was shaking his head. “Du…dumb…”

He didn’t have to say anything else.

“Come on!”

Draco lifted Harry up with ease, and straddled him over his broom. He mounted behind him, and gripped Harry's waist with one arm, and shot up in the air. He knew where to go.

Dumbledore's office.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus Dumbledore was pacing. Over and over again, he wondered what he could've done differently. Surely there had to be something. Anything. Something he had missed.

But what?

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Hermione and Ron skidded to a halt as a broom rushed by. They stared dumbstruck for three seconds, then quickly glanced at each other. They knew weren’t imagining it.

Harry and Malfoy. On a broom.

There were only two places that Malfoy would've been taking Harry so quickly, and the infirmary was in the other direction.

Dumbledore’s office.

Hermione grabbed Ron’s sleeve, and waved her wand at the nearest room.

“ALOHOMORA!”

They ran to the fireplace.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus spun around, faced the fireplace, and gaped as the two figures stepped out.

“Professor!” Hermione yelled. “Malfoy! Harry! They're headed this way!”

“On a broom!” Ron shouted.

Dumbledore froze briefly, then ran towards the door.

“Professor! The fireplace!”

The older wizard knew what Hermione was referring to.

Snape.

He quickly cast a Preventive Charm on it, blocking any entrance, and then cast a spell on the gargoyles to open.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Draco tried to keep both Harry and himself as balanced as he could as he weaved in and out of the castle corridors. As they neared Dumbledore's office, Draco realised that the entrance was probably closed. Rounding the last corner, however, he was relieved to see that the gold statues were turning, and the staircase came into view. He lowered himself and Harry level with the broom, and darted up.

Fortunately for everyone, the heavy wooden doors were already open, and Ron, Hermione and Albus quickly jumped out of the way as Harry and Draco flew by. The two tumbled to the ground, rolling over each other several times before coming to a stop.

“Professor!” Draco gasped. “Snape! He did something. I don’t know what… but Harry…”

Albus knelt down at Harry's side, and carefully took hold of his shoulders.

“Harry?” he whispered. “Harry, can you hear me? What did he…”

“He… coming… Voldemort …” Harry was completely out of breath.

Dumbledore turned to the three young wizards. “Out. All of you.”

“But…” they said at once.

“Now!” Albus shouted, and then paused to calm his voice. “Please. Out.”

Not waiting to see if they had left, Albus leaned over Harry, and gently lifted Harry so he could rest on his folded knees.

“Harry. Tell me what's going on,” he said softly.

Harry continued to gasp between words. “He… coming…. He…”

“He’s not here, Harry, so please, _tell me_.”

“He… Voldemort…saved…”

“Yes, Harry. I know,” Albus sighed. “Snape saved you.”

Harry shook his head violently. “No…lied….Voldemort…” he sputtered.

“Take deep breaths, Harry. What about Voldemort?”

Harry tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t. He was shaking too hard. “He didn’t….he didn’t…” Harry collapsed bonelessly in Dumbledore’s lap. “Didn’t save me….” he said, barely above a whisper before fainting.

Harry’s right arm fell to the floor, and his hand relaxed. A small clear ball rolled a few inches from his open fingers. Albus gasped.

He knew what that was.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape smiled as he stoppered the phial. It was done. Now there was nothing standing in his way. All he had left to do before leaving was to concoct a believable story, and Voldemort would be no more.

He parted the tapestry, and headed to the bedroom. A sudden noise from the fireplace caused Snape to spin around. Albus Dumbledore’s face appeared. Snape shoved the potion deep into his pocket.

“Albus,” he acknowledged calmly.

“Severus, I need to see you in my office.”

“Certainly. I will be there in a moment. I just need to check on Har-”

“ _Now_ , Severus.”

Snape clenched his jaw. “Of course.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus Potter coolly stepped out of Dumbledore’s fireplace, and stopped short. Harry was lying unconscious on a sofa just in front of him, and two Aurors were guarding him. Snape turned to Albus. Four Aurors were standing on opposite sides of Dumbledore’s desk, and Minister Cornelius Fudge was standing just a few feet away, along with Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Glancing one more time at Harry, he marched over to Albus.

“What is the meaning of this?” he spat. “Harry has done nothing wrong. Why is he not -?”

“Severus,” Albus began smoothly, and motioned to the empty seat in front of his large desk. “Please, sit down.”

“No, I will not bloody well sit down! I demand that you tell me why Harry is -”

“ _Severus_. Do not make me repeat myself again. Now, _sit. Down_.”

With a huff, Snape sat and glared at him. “I am sitting. Now, what is this all about?”

Albus slowly sat down and smiled. His eyes glistened. Before Snape could say another word, Albus held up the ball.

“Do you know what this is, Severus?”

Snape stared hard at it, then glanced back at Harry, then back to Albus.

“I do not know what Harry has been telling you, but I assure you, he is not well. He had possibly mis-”

Albus raised his brows. “Now, what makes you think Harry had said anything?” he said innocently.

He grinned as Severus’s face turned red.

“I do not know what you are implying, Headmaster, but I will not tolerate -”

“Minister Fudge,” Albus interrupted. “Was a pensieve drawn from Professor Snape the night Voldemort was defeated?”

“WHAT?” Snape screamed in protest.

Fudge paled, but said nothing. Albus calmly looked over to Amelia Bones.

“Do _you_ recall, Amelia?”

“This is an outrage! I was given Veritaserum, and you know it!”

“Oh, yes. I do remember indeed.” Albus smiled, stood, and then walked around to the front of his desk. “Perhaps your pensieve will remind everyone of the exact conversation.” He leaned back, and casually folded his arms over his chest. He turned his face to Fudge. “Cornelius? Do you have Severus’s pensieve?”

“This is ridiculous!” Snape shouted.

Fudge looked nervously at Snape, then to Albus.

“Professor Dumbledore is waiting for an answer, Minister Fudge,” Amelia said sternly.

“I…” Fudge started, then swallowed hard. “It was deemed unnecessary given the information Severus had supplied us with.”

Sweat was running down Fudge's chubby face – along with Severus’s. Amelia stepped forward.

“Are you telling me that no pensieve had been collected?” she said, raising her voice.

Fudge looked away, and whispered, “Yes, Madam Bones.”

She stood tall, and held back her temper. She cleared her throat. “Minister Cornelius Fudge, I am formally removing you from you current public position. You are being charged with, but not limited to, Misrepresentation, Fraud, Gross Negligence, Aiding and Abetting, Malicious Mischief, and Obstruction of Justice. Further charges and sentencing will be forthcoming.” She held her breath, and then slowly released it. She turned to two of the Aurors. “Johnson. McInllay. Please escort Mr Fudge back to the Ministry to make sure he does not lose his way.”

“Yes, Madam Bones,” they answered together.

The three wizards walked to the fireplace, and disappeared behind a cloud of green smoke. Amelia turned to Dumbledore.

“Albus?”

Albus smiled at Severus as he retrieved a large basin from his desk. He placed it gently in front of him.

“Your wand, Severus.”

Snape pursed his lips together.

“ _Now,_ Professor Potter,” Amelia demanded. Seeing that Snape was hesitating, she turned to last two Aurors. “Gentlemen, if you please,” Amelia said to them.

The two Aurors stood next to Snape, wands drawn. Reluctantly, Snape drew out his own wand, and slowly placed the tip to his temple, scowling all the while. Soon, a white strand followed his wand, and he lowered it to the basin. It swirled several times before stilling.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus Snape had been searching everywhere for Potter. _Everyone_ was out searching for him. Harry had disappeared right before Lord Voldemort was struck with seven curses. Members of the Order had split up, and had taken off in different directions. Snape was the only one who had walked in the direction of Hogwarts. _‘Potter wouldn’t be that **stupid** enough to go there, but this **was** Harry Potter after all,’ _ Snape thought.

As Snape approached the edge of the forest, he could see Harry in the distance, and the boy appeared to be seriously hurt. Cursing aloud, Snape forgot himself, and stepped out into the clearing. Harry slid down the large tree he was standing in front of, and closed his eyes.

“Potter, are you mad? What are you doing out here?”

_“SssSeveruss Sssnape. Loyal to the end?”_

Severus turned towards the familiar voice. He said the first thing he could think of.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Lord Voldemort sneered down at Harry, and walked over to him as if he had all the time in the world.

_“A pity it sssshould be thissss eassssy. I sssso wanted a fight.”_

“Yes, my Lord. How unfortunate.”

Voldemort drew his wand. He pointed it at the unconscious youth, and then paused when he heard Snape gasp.

_“Tell me, SssSeveruss. What exactly are you doing here?”_ he smirked as he watched, out of the corner of his eye, how Snape had flinched nervously.

“My Lord?” Snape inquired, trying desperately to keep the terror out of his voice. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Voldemort’s wand turn towards _him_.

_“You have deceived me, SssSeveruss.”_

“No, my Lord! I would never -”

_“Traitor! EXPELLIARMUS!”_

Blurs of light past in front of Snape's eyes before succumbing to darkness.

Severus Snape didn’t know exactly how long he had been unconscious, but the first thing he had heard when he awoke was:

“I can take anything you throw at me!” Harry yelled, now standing in front of Voldemort, wand raised.

_“Do you honestly think that your anger will be enough to defeat me?”_

“Harry!” Snape cried. It was the first name that had popped into Severus’s head.

Harry snapped his head over to where the voice had come from. Severus Snape was alive, and lying in a pool of blood.

_“You stay out of this, traitor!”_

Harry raised his wand higher.

“AVADA KEDA-!” Harry and Voldemort screamed at the same time.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Snape yelled.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Snape rushed over to Harry’s side.

“Potter.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open. “What…what happened? Where am I?” he gasped.

“What do you remember?”

“I…” Harry looked around, but could see nothing but sky. He winced in pain from the blow to his head. “What happened?”

“I saved you, Potter.”

And then he waited.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, you did,” he whispered as if he remembered.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Immediately, Snape jumped to his feet. The two Aurors grabbed him before he could raise his wand.

“Disarm him!” Amelia shouted.

The other two Aurors rushed over to help pry Snape's fingers off his wand.

“That’s a lie! Voldemort must of -”

“Silence!” Albus barked. Addressing the two Aurors that was holding Snape, “Take this… _man_ directly to the Ministry to await sentencing for his long overdue trip to Azkaban.”

“You can not do this! I saved him!”

Snape fought within the tight grips of the two Aurors as he was dragged to the fireplace.

“Harry! Harry, wake up!”

Harry fluttered his eyes open, then scrambled to the edge of the sofa.

“I love you, Harry! I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you! I _never_ did anything to hurt you! I saved you!”

“Silence or we will hit you with a Stupefy Curse!” one of the Aurors barked.

“Harry, believe me!” Snape screamed again. “I only wanted to be with you!”

Harry watched in horror as his husband’s pleading eyes bore into him before vanishing into the fireplace. He stared at the empty space until Albus and Amelia came into view. He looked up at them.

“What…?” Harry began.

Albus kneeled down. “Harry, there is something you must see.”

Harry nodded, and then the two remaining Aurors helped him to his feet, and guided him over to Dumbledore’s desk. He sat quietly in the chair, looking curiously at the basin before him.

“This will not be easy for you, Harry. I don’t know how much you remember, but…you must see this nonetheless.”

Harry gulped and nodded again. Harry leaned over, and his eyes froze on the scene playing before him. Yes, he remembered.

The tree. Snape. Voldemort. Being knocked unconscious. Snape in a pool of blood. The confrontation. Snape yelling at him. The Killing Curse that was screamed at the same time.

And then…

Harry’s eyes teared up.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry raised his wand higher.

“AVADA KEDA-!” Harry and Voldemort screamed at the same time.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Snape yelled.

The blast had hit Harry square in the middle of his chest, and his head hit the tree behind him with a crack. Snape mouthed the word, _“No!”_ , and Voldemort turned to look at Snape, and then smirked. Suddenly, Snape caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, looked over to it, and then back to Voldemort. He smiled evily at the dark wizard.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Harry’s wrist fell, and his wand slipped from his fingers. He was unconscious again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry’s mouth was wide open, and tears flowed from his eyes, ran down his cheeks, and onto his nightshirt.

Finally, he whispered, “I killed Him. Voldemort’s dead.”

“Yes, Harry,” Albus whispered back.

“He’s dead.”

“He is.”

“Snape didn’t…save me, he…”

“Yes.”

“He _stopped_ me.”

“Yes.”

Harry snapped his head over to Albus. “He stopped _ME_!”

Albus lowered his eyes.

Harry tumbled to the ground and retched.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Two**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_The Daily Prophet, Friday, June 12, 1998_

_**Harry Potter collapses at Hogwarts.** _

_Harry James Potter, known throughout the Wizarding World as The Boy Who Lived, collapsed late yesterday in Professor Albus Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after learning that his well-known marriage to Severus Snape, Potions master at Hogwarts, may have been based upon false premises. He was transported to the Intensive Care Unit at St Mungo’s Hospital where he is said to be in “serious condition”._

_It is unknown at present just how young Mr Potter obtained this crucial piece of information._

_“There have been several rumours in regards to Mr Severus Potter’s Life-Debt and the ‘marriage of convenience’, questioning its authenticity,” confirmed Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. “We here at the Ministry will be investigating this matter extensively and, after obtaining enough substantial evidence, we will be making an official announcement of our findings at that time.”_

_No other statement was given._

_As to be expected, the entire Wizarding World is in a state of shock. Speculations are now beginning to surface as to whether or not the events reported on October 31st, 1997 involving You-Know-Who, Severus Snape and Harry Potter were factual._

_Inside sources have revealed that Severus Potter was taken into custody and is currently incarcerated in the Maximum-Security Level at the Ministry. As of this writing, no official charges have been made._

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry's breathing was calm and serene as he lay on his side and squeezed the pillow tighter, fluffing it up just enough to lift his head. Unconsciously, he slid his left leg in front of him causing his torso to tilt down. As his leg went forward, something that was as long as his leg followed it, nestling in between and resting on top of his right leg. Immediately, Harry's eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled off the bed, bringing the bunched up sheet with him. He kicked his legs frantically, trying to untangle himself from the twisted linen. Harry pushed himself up to his hands and feet, scrambling backwards until his head hit the wall.

Harry scooted upwards until he was standing against the wall, palms lying flat. His body pushed into the wall as if he wanted to bury himself within it. Harry’s eyes darted around the room, searching for the person that was lying next to him. But no one was there. Harry remained frozen, panting heavily, and waited for the mysterious individual to appear.

But no one was there.

After finally convincing himself that there really _was_ no one there with him, Harry bent over and sunk to his knees and covered his head with his arms. Of course he was alone. He wanted to be alone. He _demanded_ it in fact.

As Harry raised his head and looked around the bare room, he remembered.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was only four days ago that Harry was rushed to St Mungo’s after he had vomited violently in Professor Dumbledore’s office. He had learnt that his 'husband' Severus Snape's Life-Debt had been based on a lie and that Snape had never saved Harry from Voldemort's Killing Curse. Snape had stopped Harry's instead by using Expelliarmus, thus propelling Harry against a tree and rendering him unconscious. Harry had awoken seconds afterwards, just long enough to cast the Killing Curse again, killing Voldemort. Unbeknownst to Harry, the impact to his head caused him to develop temporary amnesia, so that when he awoke for the second time, he remembered nothing about Voldemort's death or the fact that he was the one who had killed Him.

And so, through greed or other motivations, Snape had taken that fragile moment and convinced Harry - and the entire Wizarding World - that _he_ , Severus Snape, had struck Voldemort saving Harry Potter’s life in the process, and proclaimed that Harry had owed him a Life-Debt.

And everyone believed him. Even Harry.

But now - thanks to Snape's own Pensieve – Harry had learnt the truth of that fateful day and he was in such a state of shock that Dumbledore and Amelia Bones had sent for Madam Pomfrey and together they immediately Floo’d Harry to the Intensive Care Ward at St Mungo’s Hospital. The Wizarding World’s most qualified physicians were brought in and for two and half days, they had tested Harry’s blood, thoroughly checking for every type of poison known to wizard-kind, and particularly searching for traces of the potion that was found in Snape's robe.

Fortunately, none was found.

Whilst Harry was receiving the best possible care at St Mungo’s, Snape's quarters were extensively searched and the secret laboratory he used to concoct the potion was found - hidden behind a tapestry located next to the drinks cabinet in his lounge. The Philter, authorities discovered, was a highly illegal compound, used only by dark witch and wizards. It was a complex potion that compelled the subject’s mind to be susceptible to whatever the administrator had chosen for an altered memory. It was a wizard-form of hypnosis and with the spell that would’ve been cast along with it; the memory would have become permanent and unchangeable. 

Other highly illegal potions, tomes, and ingredients were found in Snape's private lab as well, and the Ministry took pleasure in adding each violation to Snape's already long list of charges.

Even now, Harry still shuddered recalling the extensive list. He always had suspicions about the most _obvious_ violations, but he never realised that there were _that_ many.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**MARRIAGE AGREEMENT VIOLATIONS:**  
Section 1: d, e, and f. Section 2: b and c. Section 3: a, b, and c. Section 8.

**OTHER VIOLATIONS:**  
 **Psychological and Emotional Abuse** ; **Sexual Abuse** ; **Rape** \- Obtained unavoidably from Harry Potter’s Pensieve; **Coercion** ; **Enslavement** ; **Actual Bodily Harm** \- Use of the Expelliarmus Spell; **Reckless Endangerment** ; **Malicious Intent** \- To use a highly illegal potion with the intent of altering victim’s mind involuntarily; **Possession of an Illegal Weapon** \- Having a weapon in a weapons restricted area, i.e. Hogwarts; **Intent of using an Illegal Weapon** ; **Perjury** \- False statement regarding the night in question and Snape's involvement; **Deception** \- False pretenses regarding Snape's own interference with the Killing Curse; **Fraud** \- Knowingly making false claims to the Ministry about goods and/or services to be rendered for the purposes of gaining or maintaining position, wealth or power - namely Mr Potter’s; **Blackmail** \- The threat to expose information exposing a hidden and/or possibly embarrassing piece of information (not collecting Snape's Pensieve) about the victim – Fudge - unless goods, services or currency is rendered. (Lie to the public in regards to the change of Life-Debt.); **Treason** \- The violation of allegiance to the Wizarding World by conscious deception by continuing the war by concealing Voldemort's demise and falsely claiming a Life-Debt.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Almost all of the information had been obtained from Snape's Pensieve. The rest was from Harry's.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry closed his eyes, regained some normalcy in his breathing, and remembered what the Aurors had told him. Severus Snape's trial, for his unforgivable offenses, would commence in three months and until such time, he would be confined at the Ministry’s Maximum-Security Ward, restricting Snape's magic and any other type of extrasensory skills that he had obtained during the course of the “marriage of convenience”.

_If_ Severus Snape was to be found guilty – and there was really no question that he wouldn’t be – Snape would _not_ be sent to Azkaban but rather to the mental ward at St Mungo’s for the criminally insane. Granted, Snape would hardly be depicted as insane, however, Healer Alexander Graham, along with other specialists with extensive knowledge of physical and psychological behaviours, needed to determine just _how_ the unbreakable bond, if severed, would affect Harry and _if_ by chance the unbreakable bond could in fact be breakable. 

Therefore, Severus Snape would not receive a lifetime sentence in Azkaban. Or worse - the Dementor’s kiss.

Snape’s life debt and the “marriage of convenience”, however, would be terminated.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After two and half days, Harry had appeared to be coherent enough to join the Healer in the predetermination of Harry's immediate future. For his part, Harry had conceded to turn over his Pensieve to the Ministry regarding the three abominable months he had endured at the hands of Severus Snape. He had also concurred with the decision to be transferred to a private ward at St Mungo’s for his healing process to commence. Harry knew that it would be a long and tedious process, but he was determined that he would not let Snape ‘win’ and take away what he had left of his sanity.

During the initial orientation, the healers and Harry met. They explained to him exactly what would be happening, what was expected from Harry, what was expected from them, and what Harry’s goals would be.

For the first ten days, Harry would be in total isolation so that he could use that time to adjust to everything that had happened to him. After that time, Harry would be required to begin counseling with four different healers. One would focus on Harry’s anger, another would concentrate on Harry's adaptation back into the Wizarding World should he decide to rejoin, the third would talk to him about ‘relationships’ – Harry argued that it wouldn’t be necessary since he would _never_ be in another relationship again – and the fourth healer would be there to help Harry with himself. As a _person_. Not just a wizard, or a husband, or a friend … just a person.

There were, however, a few stipulations:

1.) Harry was to be kept on a twenty-four hour watch whilst he spent the first ten days in isolation.

2.) No one was allowed to question Harry – per Harry's request - about the _sexual_ relations between himself and Severus Snape.

_No one._

Harry _had_ agreed that he would talk about anything else that he had experienced. But not _that_.

Healer Graham and the other physicians had agreed to comply with Harry’s request. They knew in time Harry would eventually feel the need to discuss _that_ part of his ordeal, but definitely not anytime soon.

There was also one more precondition that Harry had insisted upon whilst he recuperated at St Mungo’s:

No physical contact. At all. He simply did _not_ want to be touched.

In the meantime, the healers had ordered that Harry would not receive any visitors of any kind for the first two months. Even in his current state of mentality, Harry couldn’t agree more. He just wanted to be left alone.

Away from _everyone_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The first four days in isolation were the hardest for Harry. The days were spent in silence with Harry staring numbly at the four blank walls in his room, but the nights… the nights were agonising for him. Harry would wake up in a panic every few hours, convinced someone – someone specific – was touching him … demanding sex. He had rushed to the bathroom on several occasions vomiting.

Harry’s greatest fear was that his ‘husband’ would escape and take what was ‘his’.

So, because of this incessant feeling, Harry never fell into a deep sleep. When he felt anything touching his body, Harry would wake up screaming and scramble off his bed and huddle in the furthermost corner. It would usually only be the lightest breeze tickling his body hair, but most of the time it would be from the sheets that twisted around his body - caused by Harry tossing and turning during the night.

As Harry’s thoughts came back to the present, he uncurled himself from his protective stance on the floor and looked around his room. The room was empty save four hanging candles, a double bed and a small bedside table that held only the basic items – underwear, socks, and comb. The drawers were transparent. A set of clean clothes hung on the far wall. Each day a new set would appear, but only when Harry requested them. There were no windows and no doors – just four bare walls save one that had illuminated numbers that revealed the time. Occasionally, Harry would request a window for him to look out of, but the window and the scenery were always fake.

The bare necessities were all at Harry's request. He was becoming paranoid and trusted no one.

And so, morning, noon and night, a tray full of food would appear at the exact same time to insure that there would be no surprises, and vanish immediately once Harry was finished. If he so desired a shower, a transparent door would appear, verifying that no one was inside.

Finally after a week, the nightmares and the fear that someone was always present and lurking in the shadows lessoned.

Then the disbelief sank in.

How in the world could Snape had done that to him? What had Harry done to deserve it? Snape swore that he would never hurt Harry. Snape swore he never would lie to Harry. Why did he do that to him then? Did Snape really hate him that much? But he couldn’t have, could he? He said he loved him. Said he'd die for him. So why did Snape promise him all those things if he didn't really mean them?

But then there were the questions that had plagued Harry the most:

Why didn’t anyone come and 'save' him? Didn’t they know what was happening to him? Didn’t they care?

Was Harry not worth it?

The more Harry dwelled on these unanswered questions, the angrier he became. He started shouting obscenities at no one - yet everyone - in his small, secluded room. He began throwing his dinner plates at the wall and even tried to turn over his bed. Fortunately, it was magically secured to the floor. Finally, after three days of rampaging, Harry collapsed on his bed exhausted.

He began to cry and began asking himself a new set of questions:

How could he have let Snape do this to him? Why wasn’t he strong enough to stop him? If he wasn’t able to even stop his own husband, how was he expected to stop anything else from happening in his life? What kind of man did that make him? Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe he was a coward. Perhaps he _was_ weak. And pathetic. How could he face himself every morning? How could he face _anyone_ for that matter? What would they think of him?

And more importantly: What purpose in life did he have now?

Harry stopped eating. He slept more. Harry didn’t think he could face anyone ever again. He sank further into depression.

At the end of the ten stressful days, the healers came.

It was time for Harry’s counseling to begin.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The first step Harry was required to do was to venture out of his closed off room and into the lounge that the healers had set up for him. Like the drawers in his room and the door to his bathroom, a transparent door would appear, showing every inch of the room, assuring him that no one was there.

The furnishings in the lounge, like his bedroom, held the basic necessities – a sofa, chair, desk, an empty bookshelf and a fireplace. If there was anything else that Harry desired, he would only have to speak out loud to the empty room, and it would magically materialise. From a safe distance, of course.

The next step required Harry to Floo directly into one of the healer’s office for one of his four sessions. They began gradually, consisting of each of them taking turns to meet with Harry for just a half an hour at a time. Then after they felt Harry was comfortable enough, they had increased it to one hour. The psychiatrists always had Harry lead the conversations in the beginning, waiting patiently until that day when Harry was ready for the simplest questions:

How was he feeling? How was he coping being alone? How did he feel about that?

As to be expected, Harry’s answers were always vague.

Next came the harder questions:

What did he think of the Wizarding World as a whole? Did he want to be a part of it again? Did he feel the desire to still be a wizard now that Voldemort was dead? How did he feel now that Voldemort _was_ dead – and the fact that it was Harry who had killed him? Did he still hold everyone in contempt; thinking everyone had betrayed him?

That last question caused an outbreak of such hateful and violent reactions from Harry that he had to be put in isolation again.

Instead of being grateful and embracing his solitary confinement, Harry was now suddenly aware of the fact that he did not _want_ to be alone. He apologised to his empty room over and over again, and repeatedly promised that he would ‘try’ to restrain his temper.

After two days, Harry began again, but this time, the question was rephrased:

In what way did he think his friends had abandoned him? Did he honestly think that they didn’t try to help him? What could they have done differently? What would _Harry_ have done if it was one of _his_ friends that were forced into marriage? 

Understandably, Harry needed time to think about that, so the healers decided to wait before bringing it up again.

After one long month of intensive therapy, Harry decided that he was ready to take the huge step by venturing outside of his self-imposed ‘sanctuary’. He began short walks around St Mungo’s corridors and then, much to the relief of everyone involved, he took the gigantic leap of going outside. Harry made small talk with other patients and healers on his excursions, and felt a tremendous sense of relief that his social skills - and his confidence - hadn’t left him entirely.

Harry quickly made friends with the entire staff at St Mungo’s, and even began to feel comfortable enough to joke with them. His therapy was becoming easier, and Harry started opening up a little more with each session. He soon began to feel that he was confiding in friends and not just ‘healers’. He confessed all of his fears, his self-worth, his self-doubt and his anger – not just towards everyone and everything, but towards his self included. They listened attentively, and when they felt Harry was ready, they offered him their advice.

The healers helped Harry realise that, even though all of his emotions were absolutely justified and warranted, and they assured him that they would always be there to help him heal, he had, in fact, alienated himself from the people that he had loved and who loved him. The healers helped Harry understand that he was never really alone, and if he had only bothered to look, he would've seen that. His friends were always there. They never gave up on him. It was Harry that had pushed them away.

Suddenly, Malfoy's words rang true.

_“Not everyone is your enemy, Potter. It isn’t the world against Harry Potter… The only one who’s abandoned you is **you**. You’re just too blind to see that.”_

The healers broke Harry’s rule of no physical contact and held Harry for hours as he broke down and cried.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Being Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones was the first person outside of St Mungo’s that met with Harry. It was in regards to Snape and the charges against him. Harry co-operated in offering as much information as he was capable of – with the exception of the sexual acts. To Harry’s surprise, it was at his own request that he wanted to know about Snape's progress. She explained that Snape was also receiving counseling, and that his ‘sessions’ were improving daily. She also stated the reasons behind the decision of why Snape was not sent to Azkaban. Though Harry already knew why.

It was at this point that Madam Bones informed Harry that he would eventually have to meet with Snape before any further legal action was to occur. She also told him that his former husband was now at St Mungo’s. Harry’s eyes widened and blinked several times before he ran out of the room. Harry's healers stormed in, infuriated with her for her lack of consideration of Harry's feelings, and that _they_ were supposed to be the ones who were to tell Harry all of this.

Harry didn’t sleep that night.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The first person Harry felt he was ready to visit with was Albus Dumbledore. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so until finally Harry gave him a warm smile. Taking that as an encouragement, his one-time mentor started by assuring Harry that he was cleared of all charges against him including attempted murder. Harry already knew all of this, but nodded anyway to be polite. Dumbledore also told him that even though the N.E.W.Ts had come and gone, Harry would still be allowed to take them whenever he thought he was ready to. 

The room fell silent again as they both were suddenly at a loss for words. Finally, Albus cleared his throat, and began a lengthy explanation of the reasons behind his actions, and why he had …

The visit was abruptly cut short. It occurred to Harry that it was just too soon for this particular topic. He was still bitter, and he still felt betrayed by this man. He was supposed to have protected Harry.

It would be months before Harry would finally be able to listen to _anything_ that his 'friend' had to say. 

Albus Dumbledore left quietly.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

By the middle of the third month, Harry requested a visitation with his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was the beginning of Harvest and the air was becoming colder with each passing day. It didn’t matter to Hermione or Ron that Harry chose to sit outside for their first visit with him. They were just glad that they were finally able to see their friend.

Harry cast a Warming Spell around the three of them as they sat outside on blankets under a large tree, and began chatting about nothing of importance. Hermione had past her N.E.W.Ts with flying colours, and Ron had barely squeezed by – much to Hermione's dismay. For the first time in months, Harry laughed. It wasn’t a hearty laugh, but to Hermione and Ron, it may as well have been. It was so good to see the shadow of the Harry that was once there, and it filled them with a sense of hope that he was indeed on the road to recovery.

It almost felt like old times.

After completely updating Harry with all the information they knew, a strange silence had fallen over him. He looked away and took a deep breath. His friends looked at him curiously and with sincere concern.

“I want to apologise to you both,” Harry whispered and he could actually hear the two of them hold their breath in shock. He knew that they were both told specifically not to press Harry into discussing anything about the ‘past’, and if it _were_ come up, they were told to allow Harry to set the pace.

Harry still waited for a response. Seeing that there was none coming, he continued.

“I realise now that you _were_ trying to help me, but,” Harry stopped, unable to find the right words.

He saw through his peripheral vision that Hermione had opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by a gentle touch from Ron and a small shake of his head.

Harry continued.

“I realise now,” Harry paused again to take a deep breath. “I never ….”

“Harry…” Hermione started but was stopped this time by Harry.

“Please, Hermione. Let me finish,” Harry said kindly, still not looking at her. “This is kind of hard for me.” He sensed rather than saw Hermione blush. “When everything first happened, I ... expected that you two would come up with some sort of miracle and ‘save the day’. I expected you to have all the answers. So when I lost the trial, I was hurt. I felt betrayed," Harry whispered then took a deep breath. "I just ... I just took it for granted that you would 'fix' everything. So because of that, when you _had_ offered me the only help you _could_ do, I never accepted it, nor did I want to listen. Not really. Nor did I take it upon myself to ...”

Harry stopped again and closed his eyes. “I never ...” Harry sighed. “I was too angry and I ... I took it out on everyone. I blamed you and everyone else for my ‘situation’, and I couldn’t see past that fact, and that you _were_ trying to be there for me ... You _were_ trying to help me - offering only what you could.” Harry sighed again, then whispered, “I expected more than what you were capable of, and when I didn’t get it, I pushed you away.” Harry hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

Harry looked up and saw that Hermione was biting her lower lip, and a steady stream of tears was running down her face. Harry glanced over to Ron, who was holding her hand, and he too was crying.

“Harry,” she finally managed to choke out. “I wish we could've done more.”

Harry nodded slightly and smiled softly. “I know, Hermione. But I know now that it simply was an impossible expectation on my part ... It was an impossible expectation to ask from _anyone_. Especially from my two friends who had meant the most to me.” Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard before looking back into Hermione's eyes. “The truth is, I just expected your help ... without helping myself. I never came to _you_ for help and I should have." Harry paused and then took hold of Hermione's hand. She flinched in surprise. "Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists, obviously holding herself back from hugging Harry.

She whispered back, “Oh Harry! Please forgive _me_!”

Harry nodded. “Of _course_ I forgive you.” He gave her a warm smile then looked away, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. “I want to thank you for your help with, you know, giving the Ministry information on … um …”

He couldn’t finish but he didn’t have to. Hermione knew he was referring to the ‘Muggle’ books on emotional abuse within a marriage and the ‘Muggle’ laws regarding them.

“I’m glad they helped,” she said in a gentle voice.

He looked back at her and smiled. “No, Hermione. _You_ did,” Harry corrected.

Hermione blushed. It became deathly quiet for a moment; none of them quite knowing what to say next.

Finally, "Harry?" Ron's voice was soft and almost timid.

Harry and Hermione looked curiously at their friend. Ron's head was turned away, and his face was pale.

"We ... _I_ should have told you about Ginny," he whispered.

Hermione scooted back, and knelt in front of Harry nodding. "We _both_ should have. We just... we were so caught up in trying to help you that we..."

"We thought it would hurt you more if we talked about Ginny," Ron finished, now looking directly at Harry.

Harry looked away. "It did hurt, Ron. I loved her. You know I did. She meant everything to me and then..." He sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he lowered his head. "She was gone."

"I know," Ron whispered. "We should have..." He stopped, pursing his lips tightly to stop himself from crying again.

"Do you know where she is?" Harry asked softly, glancing up.

Hermione and Ron shook their heads. "No," they quietly said together.

Harry hugged himself and bent over.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. I wish I knew. I wish we could go back and change everything. You were hurting and we never... We should've talked to you about her."

Harry thought for moment and then shook his head. "No. It probably would have made me angrier. I probably wouldn't have wanted to talk about her anyway."

Harry was still hunched over, and silence fell over the three of them again.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, lightly touching his shoulder.

Harry peered up through his fringe. He was crying.

"Merlin, Harry. I really am sorry." Hermione said and Ron nodded in agreement. "Please forgive us, Harry."

Harry opened his arms and Hermione rushed into his embrace. She hugged him fiercely, completely disregarding the ‘no physical contact’ rule. Harry held onto Hermione tightly, and stroked her hair in comfort. Ron knelt forward and circled his arms around them both.

“Shh. Forgive _me_ ,” Harry whispered.

“What say we all forgive each other,” Ron said, breaking the tension.

The three friends laughed and tightened their hold on each other.

“Deal,” Harry and Hermione said together.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Three**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The Ministry was already in chaos since the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, and it escalated ten fold when Severus Snape and his two escort Aurors stepped out of the fireplace. Snape was quickly ushered to the lower level of the building to commence his 'in process'. Four other Aurors were waiting for him there, and they took great pleasure watching as Snape experienced the most humiliating event of his entire life. And that included the time he had spent with _Voldemort_.

The first thing Snape was required to do was strip. Even with six wands pointing directly at him just daring for him to try something, he still found it difficult to comply. Layer upon layer of clothes were slowly removed, and after each item, he proceeded to neatly fold them. By the time he was down to his underwear, the Aurors had lost every ounce of patience they had to begin with. Which wasn't much. Snape inwardly smirked at their growing anger, however the satisfaction left him when he was told of the next procedure.

Cleansing his body.

Instead of the standard showering or even a magical Scourgify, the Aurors had decided on a more primitive method. Snape stood naked before them, encased behind a magical shield. Freezing cold water hit Snape with so much force that his arms flared wildly, trying to find purchase on anything that would hold him upright. But there was nothing within his reach so instead he stumbled back a few feet and tried to regain his sense of balance. He shook his head frantically as his wet hair clung to his face. He spat out water from his mouth continuously, for every gasp he made earned him more. Snape finally covered his face, and ran his fingers through his drenched hair in an effort to calm himself and to wipe off as much liquid as possible.

But his hair was just the beginning.

When the water had struck his body, Snape was knocked off his feet and force-landed painfully. The Aurors immediately yelled at him to get up, and Snape retaliated with a few choice words of his own. A lot of good it did him though. He earned himself another five minutes. When he had finally managed to stand securely on his feet again, the cold water hit him with full power once again. This time, the blast struck him so fast that he stumbled backwards, and was struck hard against the stone wall; making him cry out in pain. Snape tried to move his arms and hands to shield his face, but he couldn’t find the energy to lift them. When the jet was directly aimed at his genitals, however, Snape quickly regained his strength back and covered them.

"Move your hands," one of the Aurors demanded.

Head down, he could only manage a small shake of his head, but when he felt the pressure of the water relax, Snape did as he was told. It was still agonising, but he knew it could have been a lot worse. After it was obvious to him that his 'shower' was over, Snape’s legs finally gave way, and he slowly slithered down the wall. Like a little child, he curled himself up into the foetal position, and he couldn't help but shiver in shock at the cold air that surrounded him. Snape lay there for a while, feeling every drop of liquid that slid down his inflamed body. 

He could sense the men laughing at his abasement.

A towel was thrown at him and he was ordered to dry. Snape struggled to his feet, all the while trying to keep the towel from getting soaked by the water still puddled below him. He regained a false sense of composure as he stood tall and started to dry himself, beginning with his saturated hair. Snape felt the shields lower, and the six men approached. He didn't have to look up to know that they had their wands drawn once again. As if he would resist given the state he was in. At that thought, he smiled despite himself. Of course that did _not_ amuse his capturers.

Dark onyx eyes met the six pairs of glaring ones that were filled with hostility. Snape was surrounded now and couldn't help but cringe when a wand was raised, and the tip of it tapped his left wrist. The Auror laughed. Another wand touched his right, followed by his two ankles. Cold hard steel surrounded them, and Snape inhaled sharply as the power within them overrode his senses. He staggered at the surge of energy, knowing it was to contain his magic and whatever else he had obtained during the marriage.

Hands were suddenly upon Snape. _Still naked,_ he was pulled out of the containment room, and was abruptly ushered into another room. The first thing Snape noticed in the new area were the two large Aurors standing facing him with arms crossed and jaws clenched tight. He looked away quickly, focusing instead on his new surroundings. This one held a single padded table covered with white, crisp sheets and several cabinets on the wall. Snape recognised the items in the cupboards, and knew they would be used in his examination. The six Aurors behind Snape laughed and bid him farewell.

Over the next four and a half hours, Snape was poked, prodded, and restrained. No part of his body - or any of his orifices for that matter - was left untouched. Blood, hair, mucus, urine and faeces were collected, and it _definitely_ was not done in a civilised manner. At the end of the 'examination', Snape was utterly exhausted. As he sat alone in the room, his head hung so low that his chin touched his chest, and his limbs felt heavy and useless as they dangled off the edge of the table. He groaned when he heard someone enter. He was then ordered to stand, and he obediently complied. A flimsy gown was handed to him along with slippers made of cloth. After putting both items on, he was escorted to another room.

Snape glanced up once he was inside. A small cot was on one side, and in the opposite corner was a sink and basin. He sighed heavily and wondered if this was to be his permanent quarters. Without so much as a word, the door was slammed shut.

Snape was asleep in less than three minutes.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

A loud clanking noise woke Snape, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. On the floor was a tray that held a measly dinner. Had he slept that long? Did a day go by already or was it still the same one? Not that Snape really cared. He instantly rushed to it and brought it back to his ‘bed’, devouring every bit of food that there was. He washed it down with lukewarm tea, then sighed as he leaned back against the wall. His bliss was short lived however. As if someone was watching his every move - which Snape knew they probably were - two Aurors entered and without a word being spoken, beckoned Snape to return the tray. Defiantly, he held it out to them, refusing to get up from the small uncomfortable cot.

One of the Aurors marched over and raised his arm to Snape, who instinctively flinched. The Auror laughed as he snatched the tray from Snape's hand, and turned to leave - still chuckling at him. Snape had the energy to only smirk at their backsides before scooting down the bed, and bringing the thin blanket up and over his shoulders.

Although his stomach was partially sated, this time it took him longer to fall asleep.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape couldn’t believe it. He inhaled sharply and tightened his closed eyes. He didn’t want to open them for fear that the person he felt lying in front of him would flee. Or worse - he’d find out that it was only his mind playing tricks on him. And so, holding his breath, Snape slowly lifted his hand that was resting heavily on his hips, and lightly touched the familiar arm. Familiar yes. His smell was familiar. His body was familiar. Everything about this young man, who was now leaning back and pushing into his naked chest, was familiar.

The messy hair tickled Snape's nose, but instead of flinching or drawing back, he buried his face into it and inhaled deeply. The hand that was stroking the thin but muscular arm, moved lower and grazed along the planes of the hairless chest. Snape gasped sharply when a firm pair of buttocks pressed into his groin. He quickly seized the pointy hip, and forced it back whilst he thrusted his forward. Merlin, how he missed this.

Snape's arm, the one that was cradling the young man’s head, folded and wrapped tightly around him, bringing the boy that much closer to him. Without a second thought, Snape's cock started thrashing viciously between the boy’s cheeks until it became too painful for him. Snape stopped straightaway and nudged the other forward, and then reached down and wedged his fingers between the thin legs. They parted instantly and … Sweet Merlin! The boy was already prepared. Snape groaned incoherently.

Gently, Snape aligned the tip of his cock to the center of the small entrance, and then placed his hand back on the pelvic arch and carefully pushed in. It was so tight! Snape threw his head back and growled. He took hold of the boy’s thigh, and guided the top leg over his. He squeezed the young man’s hip with his fingers, and dug his nails into the soft skin. After Snape was fully sheathed, he couldn’t help but pound brutally into the boy.

Snape knew he wouldn’t be able to last for very long.

And he was right. Within only a matter of minutes and with one final thrust, Snape froze and drove his hips forward, simultaneously pulling the young man back, and howled from the intensity of his orgasm. His body shuddered and twitched with convulsions. When Snape was finally able to relax, he collapsed back down on the cot, panting from exhaustion. Snape's heart thumped wildly in his chest as he covered his face with his hands – all the while shaking it in disbelief.

The boy had come back to him.

Snape turned onto his side once again and reached out. The bed was cold and empty. Snape jumped up and screamed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Several miles away, behind the sanctuary walls of St Mungo’s, Harry Potter woke up in hysterics.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When the same four Aurors arrived the next morning, Snape was already awake and crouched at the head of the cot. Hearing them enter, he snapped his head up and glared. His anger had returned. His desire to prove his innocence was also back and stronger than ever. He needed to get out there.

He needed Harry.

Snape stood with some difficulty, but rose to his feet nonetheless. Like yesterday, the Aurors said nothing, and one of them flung a bundle of clothes at him. Snape caught them expertly and then sneered in disgust. He was given a flimsy dull-grey shirt and an equally worn-out pair of trousers. Snape turned around for at least _some_ sort of privacy, but he still felt the impatient eyes watching him. Finally dressed and his cloth slippers back on, he turned around to face the four Aurors and was quick to discover that he had been right. They _were_ getting impatient. Mentally, Snape smirked at them but outwardly he raised a brow and tilted his head curiously when they motioned for him that it was time to leave. Snape gestured towards the basin, and one of the men hesitantly nodded. Didn’t they even think that there was even a _possibility_ that Snape would need to relieve himself? Of course not. Why would they care? They didn’t care about his discomfort yesterday when they ‘washed' him, now did they?

Having rid himself of the liquid waste, Snape stepped up to the sink and washed his hands. Seeing that there was no towel to dry them with, he glanced over to the Aurors expectantly. The Auror, who had given him ‘permission’ to urinate, narrowed his eyes and raised his wand. He flicked his wrist and Snape's hands were instantly dried. The man kept his wand held high as he looked Snape up and down and then grimaced. From his expression, he obviously was trying to decide if he should clean the rest of him. Finally, the Auror sneered and muttered, “Scourgify”. Snape was positive that it was only being done simply for the illusion that he was treated well.

The four Aurors then escorted Snape to an upper level of the Ministry and into a room that appeared to be one that was used for official meetings. Snape suddenly felt embarrassed at his lack of attire, but assumed it was intentional. He waited with two of the Aurors standing directly behind him, sitting facing the large desk before him. Twenty minutes had passed before Amelia Bones arrived. Upon seeing her, Snape had regained his temper with full force. Before she even had a chance to speak, Snape began to protest loudly at the injustice of his cruel treatment and demanded an immediate apology. Madam Bones raised her hand to stop the two Aurors who were pulling out their wands, ready to restrain Snape. Grudgingly, they complied.

For the first time since he'd been incarcerated, Snape felt a strong sense of amnesty. However, that proved to be short lived.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Four**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

For hours upon hours, Severus Snape and Madam Amelia Bones argued heatedly and there was no sign of either of them relenting.

While it was true that Amelia was willing to listen to Snape's explanations of his Life-Debt and how he didn’t feel that he had in anyway intentionally caused harm to Harry, it became very clear to Snape that she was merely listening because that was what was required of her and not because she actually believed him or _wanted_ to believe him. Nor did she appear to have any inclination to agree with his motives or his reasons.

He continued on, however, determined that he would be able to convince her if she would just be willing to try.

Snape's justification for his Life-Debt was that the Expelliarmus spell was intended for Voldemort so it would have given Harry the advantage over the Dark Lord, but Voldemort had moved at the last minute and he unintentionally struck Harry. However, since it could not be proven that Harry _might_ have thrown the first Avada Kedavra, there was still the possibility that Snape _had_ protected Harry from Voldemort’s. Madam Bones insisted that it wasn’t relevant now simply because, for _whatever_ reason, Harry _had_ survived and was able to administer the Killing Curse and therefore Snape’s actions were of no consequence. Snape then argued that if it was of no consequence, why was he still being interrogated and why weren’t the charges being dismissed?

A long, intense and awkward silence fell over the room and it appeared that Amelia was seriously contemplating Snape's argument and information. It gave him momentary hope – until she spoke.

She asked him in a direct manner what he considered his justification was for lying to the entire Wizarding World – not to mention the Ministry – regarding the demise of Lord Voldemort. The question caught Snape off-guard. Seeing there was no immediate answer, she then asked him if he honestly thought he could have hidden this fact from everyone and what his excuse would have been if the truth became known. 

Again Snape was silent.

She then asked him if he felt his actions were justified for the simple reason that Voldemort _was_ dead and he would have felt that it wouldn’t have mattered. She leaned forward and asked him what he intended to do if the truth became known. What lie would he use?

Madam Bones smugly sat back in her chair and waited for the answers that she knew would never come. And she was right because Snape sat there, tightlipped and scowling. Since she had made her point, she reached over to the tall stack of parchments and began going over the lists of charges. Snape remained quiet until it came to the details of the Life-Debt.

Snape declared once again that who the hex hit first was irrelevant because Harry Potter was alive because of him and there was no evidence from what he could remember that Voldemort was in fact dead. 

The room instantly became deafening at the sudden silence. Madam Bones grit her teeth and glared at him. In return, Snape sank into the chair, scowled and reciprocated her expression. The two sat opposite each other, both locked in their conviction. Finally, Amelia closed her eyes and sighed. There was only one way to be certain. And Snape knew it, as well. He would have to supply her and the rest of Ministry officials with a pensieve - the first one had mysteriously vanished - that would settle it once and for all. It was either that, or have it taken by force. The former was a better option.

Snape was ushered into what was called a ‘secure room’ by Madam Bones. Secure for Snape's safety. There were rumours already that there were some who did not care if Snape was innocent or not. They just wanted him dead. The Ministry vehemently denied the rumour, of course.

Once inside the room, so began the tedious task of drawing out Snape's memories.

The first of many.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As soon as Healer Graham was called in, he immediately began to watch Snape, as well as Harry while they slept for similitude. He needed to know if the bond they held would be interrupted or damaged. Both held looks of concentration, followed by suggestive movements and then when they both awoke, they screamed in anguish.

Perhaps it was a mistake to have separated them.

Graham shook his head at that. No, there must be a reason that they were expressing the same reactions. There must be. He desperately wanted to question Harry on why he was afraid when he woke up. Was it because he longed for Snape and was traumatised when he wasn’t there in the morning? Was it because Snape had sexually abused him?

On the morning of Harry's third day, Healer Graham got his answer and he cursed himself for being so blind.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry Potter woke up in hysterics as he had done for the past two days. But this morning was different. The _dream_ he had was different. Only it wasn’t a dream. It was _real_. It had to be. How else could he explain the wetness lying on his stomach? The intense feeling of orgasm that was given to him by a strong hand. Snape was in the room. He _knew_ it.

Harry jumped out of bed and screamed, “Come out, you bastard! I know you're here!”

When there was no answer, Harry flung the sheets off the bed in a rage and yelled again.

“Why can't you just leave me alone? Why can't you just … why can't you …” he whispered, voice fading.

Harry slunk to the floor and covered his head.

“Please. Just leave me alone,” he whimpered.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Miles away, Snape woke up with a smile on his face before jumping out of bed and yelling, “Harry, come back to me!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

In another room, Healer Alexander Graham hung his head and sighed. This was going to be more complicated than he had originally thought.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The second night in his small cell was just as much agony for Snape as the first. The dream he had had was even more realistic and more vivid. He woke up screaming like the night before, but this time he was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to survive another night without his husband. He was sure that somehow, the bond that they shared, demanded that they _had_ to be together and by being separated, it would cause immediate death for both.

It didn’t even enter Snape's mind that it was because he missed his husband - it wasn’t even a factor.

And so, on that third day, Snape was beyond reason. He _had_ to get Harry back. _Now!_ Snape was at the point of becoming hysterical. He insisted to anyone that was listening – which he knew that they were – that there would be serious consequences if he and his husband were not re-united immediately.

His demands were ignored.

That night Snape knew he would be unable to sleep without the comfort of his husband’s presence. He paced his cell frantically, too _afraid_ to sleep only to have to wake up alone.

In the afternoon of the fourth day, Snape was called in for the Ministry official’s decision. He was confident that he had ‘won’.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Over fifteen Aurors and Ministry officials were called in. They intently studied the collected vision of the night Voldemort allegedly perished, trying to determine if Severus Snape had indeed 'saved' Harry Potter's life or not. They each did so separately so to prevent being influenced by another’s opinion. When they re-grouped, there were a few minor discrepancies on whether or not Voldemort had merely vanished or if indeed he was destroyed, so the seconds in question were analysed over and over once again.

By the end of three days, they had come to a unanimous conclusion.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

One: Lord Voldemort was in fact dead.

Two: By inflicting the Expelliarmus Spell on Harry - whether intentionally or not - Severus Snape had prevented him from receiving Voldemort's Killing Curse thus saving him, for Harry's was a fraction of a second behind.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Once Snape had joined the large group of Ministry officials and Madam Bones, the first order of business was to go over was the charges against him for deceiving the entire Wizarding World regarding Voldemort's death. He, of course, was found guilty and the charges remained. For that crime alone, Snape would have received the Dementor's Kiss. 

However there was only one obstacle that prevented it from occurring.

The possibility of a bond between Harry Potter and Severus Snape.

Snape took that opportunity to argue his case that the Life-Debt was validated and warranted. He was silenced instantly with a wave of a wand. It wasn’t his place to argue.

The next question was whether or not Snape's actions would have earned him a Life-Debt.

It was deemed that yes, they would have. However, in Snape's Life-Debt, it stated that it was _only_ to be used for Harry's safety, as well as his own from Lord Voldemort. But Voldemort was dead, and Snape knew this at the time so the whole contract was a lie. Because of this, the Life-Debt and the marriage of convenience were terminated.

The Ministry now had to determine exactly what was to be done with Snape. His crimes _did_ warrant a life time stay in Azkaban and/or the Dementors Kiss, but they had to consider once again the possibility of a bond between Harry Potter and Severus Snape.

_Was_ a bond still in place now that the Life-Debt and the marriage contract was dissolved? How would they know for sure that it _was_ still there? What type of bond was it? Which event caused the bond? What kind of tests would they have to perform to determine it? If it was discovered that a bond _was_ still in effect, would it have an impact on Harry if Snape was to be administered the dreaded Kiss? And what if Snape was to be sent to Azkaban? Would _that_ affect Harry and in what way? 

Finally, and more importantly, _could_ the bond be broken at all?

For assistance, they called in Healer Alexander Graham.

Healer Graham stated that since he was unable to determine at present the appropriate answer, it would indeed be a danger to Harry Potter if anything was to happen to Severus Snape and if anything _did_ happen, it could directly or indirectly affect him.

Snape was then moved to St Mungo’s.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After the Life-Debt and the marriage were both nullified, Healer Graham watched the two of them carefully as they slept. There was no difference. No significant difference anyway.

The bond was still there.

It was diminishing though, which was promising. The longer they were apart, the less intense were their reactions. It gave Graham a little hope. Not much - but a little. He wasn’t a specialist in bonds, so it would take time to research and find the correct one, but he knew one thing for certain:

Snape needed counseling as much as Harry did. Perhaps more.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Snape was ecstatic to learn he would be nearer to his husband and demanded that they be re-united once he was there. His request was denied. Healer Graham informed him that he had to observe the two of them separately before making any rash decisions. And he explained to Snape that _if_ he felt that there was any danger to the bond or to each of them, he would consider placing the two of them together, but only if he was confident that both parties would be safe and the bond would be unaffected.

In truth, Graham felt it would only traumatise Harry further.

In the meantime, Healer Graham ordered that Snape’s pensieve was to be collected. It took several hours to extract it and it would be many days to sift through it because it contained everything within the last four months.

After the memories were retrieved, Snape was left alone for ten days in a small, modest room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was day two at St Mungo’s and day six away from Harry. Snape knew he would be able to handle the days alone, but the nights…?

The first day here he had time to reflect on everything that had happened to him until now and he took great pride in knowing that they were _never_ going to send him to Azkaban or make him receive the Dementor’s Kiss. He knew the bond was still in effect. He couldn’t explain exactly _how_ he knew; only that he did.

Perhaps it was because of his dreams. He could ‘feel’ his husband. He could almost smell him on his body after waking from the dream sex. Or maybe it was because of the way he could sense his husband’s emotions. They were strong. His husband was afraid. His husband wasn’t just afraid – he was terrified. Snape wished he could run to him and tell him everything would be all right. Tell him how much he loved him. How much he needed him.

How much he _wanted_ him.

Damn them for taking his husband away from him! They had no right! Contract or not, marriage or not, Harry was his!

“You cannot deny me forever! Harry belongs to me!” Snape shouted to the empty room.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Five**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

On day ten at St Mungo’s, two Aurors escorted Snape into a small but casual room. He took a seat on the small sofa across from another one and waited while his ‘guards’ stood silent against the far wall. He had no false illusions that wherever he went from then on that he’d be chaperoned. As he sat back and waited for his ‘counselor’, his mind drifted.

At first, the days and nights alone had been agony for Snape, but as time went by, he treasured it. His surroundings hadn't been like Harry’s – though he didn’t know that of course – but his small room was comfortable enough. At least the bed was – when he was on it that is.

In the beginning, Severus had spent most of the time on the floor. He wouldn’t have called what he did ‘pouting’, but that’s exactly what he had done. Of course, it was only after he obtained a hoarse throat from shouting and sore muscles from trying to turn over the unturnoverble bed, that Severus finally collapsed on the floor. He stayed there till dinner arrived.

One thing he learned was that everything ran like clockwork at St Mungo’s. Breakfast, lunch and dinner arrived at the precise same time. He liked that above all. Punctuality. It was a sin _not_ to be in his eyes. As Severus waited for dinner to arrive, and that no one was going to answer his demands, or acknowledged his presence for that matter, he began to consider his options.

And his schemes.

Oh, yes. Naturally, he schemed. He _was_ a Slytherin after all. Head of House at that. He knew what the future had in store for him. Days in and days out of just ‘talking’. Snape snorted at that. Talking. What good was talking about anything? He knew it would be beneficial if the conversations were about practical things – such as how to get himself out there and how he could be with Harry again. But no. He knew they would want him to just … talk. Meaningless shit like ‘his feelings’.

_‘Feelings,’_ he thought, snorting. He’d tell them all about his ‘feelings’ all right. Loud and clear. So loud that they would need earmuffs.

At that moment, Healer Graham walked into the room and calmly sat behind his desk. He straightened some loose parchments and put them aside. He looked up at Severus and smiled.

“I apologise for my tardiness, Severus.” Severus grunted a non-committal acknowledgement. “What I’d like to discuss in our first session is Harry.”

“What about him?” Severus snapped.

“I’d like for us to talk about him,” he repeated.

“Fine. Where is he?” Severus asked shortly.

Healer Graham raised his brows and tilted his head. “Severus,” he began quietly. “You know where he is.”

“Then take me to him.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Then what is there to talk about?”

Healer Graham answered slowly, trying to emphasise his objective. “I would like for us to talk about Harry and the relationship between the two of you.” He paused briefly. “Do you have any objections?”

“Do I have a choice?” Severus said, snarling.

“Of course you do. You can choose not to talk about anything, but I will warn you that for every day that you do not is one day further away from seeing Harry.”

“So then I _can_ see him?”

“Eventually.”

“Then take me to him now!”

Graham sighed and sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “Severus. He’s not ready.”

“What do you mean he’s not ready?” Severus said, his voice raising. “Ready for what?” he half-shouted.

Graham looked at Severus evenly. “He’s not ready to see you, and no one will force him to.” He quickly held up a hand to forestall Severus from objecting. “It will be _his_ decision to decide when, Severus, and the more you push it, the least likely he will ever want to.”

Severus grit his teeth, took a deep breath before hanging his head. He sighed. “What must I do?”

Graham smiled. It was a small sign that there might be hope yet - for Severus needed healing as much as Harry. “For now, we will only talk.” Severus looked up, frowning. “I won't lie to you, Severus. It might be a long time before Harry will talk to you, let alone seeing you.”

“I will…” Severus started softly. “…do whatever it takes then.”

This time, Healer Graham gave Severus a genuine smile. “An excellent decision, Severus. Shall we begin?”

Severus looked away and barely nodded.

“Severus?” Graham said to draw attention back to him. “I don’t expect much in these first few sessions, but I do expect honesty.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, I will be honest! How dare you insinuate otherwise!” he spat.

“I did not mean to insult you, Severus. I was merely reciting a statement that I give to everyone. That way there are no miscommunications of what I expect. And you can expect the same from me.”

Severus nodded curtly, then waved his hand at Graham to begin the questioning.

Healer Graham shifted in his seat, getting into a more comfortable position. Severus took the hint and followed suit. Once they were both situated, Graham launched into what he knew would be dangerous questions.

“Severus, I’d like to start by discussing the night Voldemort was destroyed and what followed afterward.”

Severus’s body tensed, and he gripped the arms of the small sofa chair. After a long pause, he nodded curtly.

“As I’m sure you already know, I saw your Pensieve of that night.” Graham waited till Severus acknowledged him. He continued carefully, “I’m curious, Severus. Would you have only erased the memory of Harry killing the Dark Lord?”

“What does that suppose to mean?” Severus said, raising his voice.

“Please just answer the question. Would that have been the _only_ thing you would have erased from Harry’s mind?”

Severus looked at him skeptically. “Yes,” he answered slowly.

“I see. So hypothetically speaking, what did you expect to happen next?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Well, after you altered his memory, Harry would then believe you saved him from Voldemort, and that the Life Debt was warranted, thus the two of you would still be married.”

“That’s correct,” Severus answered nonchalantly.

“And you would have no guilty conscience of deceiving him,” Graham said in a form of a statement.

“No.”

Graham nodded. “All right. Then what?”

“Then what _what_? Would you kindly please be more specific?” Severus asked impatiently.

“Certainly. What did you imagine to happen after that? Between Harry and you?”

“We would still be married, of course!” Severus snapped.

“And, of course, Harry would then accept his fate?”

“Of course he would accept his fate! If he had accepted his fate in the first place, none of this would have happened!” Severus said, sitting straight up in his chair.

“Fair enough,” Graham said, nodding. “So Harry accepts his fate. And he accepts the fact that the two of you are married and he will never question it again.”

“That’s the way it should have been!” Severus spat angrily.

Graham continued to nod. “All right. Let’s say that it is how it is now.”

“But it’s not, is it?” Severus said bitterly.

“No, but again we’re talking hypothetically.”

Severus huffed and then said, “I don’t see where there would be any further questions after that. Harry, and I would be married and that would be the end of it,” he said as if the matter was settled.

“And you and Harry would be happy?”

“Of course!”

“But what if Harry wasn’t?”

“Wasn’t what?” Severus said, growing angrier by the minute.

“What if Harry wasn’t happy? What if Harry accepted his fate and the fact that he is your husband, but he still wouldn’t be happy?” Graham asked calmly.

“Why wouldn’t he be happy?” Severus countered.

“Why should he be?” Graham asked softly.

“Because there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be!”

Graham quietly sighed. He decided to try a different tactic. “Severus, do you love Harry?”

“Of course I do!” Severus shouted.

“And Harry loves you?”

Severus clenched his jaw and pursed his lips into a thin line. “He will.”

Graham tilted his head and frowned. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“HE WILL!” Severus screamed.

A painful silence filled the room.

Graham looked at him compassionately. “Severus, all I’m asking – hypothetically of course – is what if Harry never loves you?”

No reply.

“Severus?”

“WHAT?”

Again Graham kept his voice calm and even. “What if Harry will never be happy nor will he ever love you, no matter what you say or no matter what you do?”

Severus looked away and scowled.

Graham sighed. “I see that our session is over.”

Severus looked back at Graham and smirked.

“However, before you go, I have something that I want you to think about for our next session. I would like you to think about the possibility of Harry never being happy if you two were still married and how it would make you feel. I also want you to consider the possibility that Harry doesn’t love you, nor will he ever love you, and even possibly end up hating you for the rest of your life.”

“He doesn’t hate me!” Severus insisted.

Graham looked at him seriously and leaned forward. “How do you know that, Severus?”

“Because I know!”

“Have you ever asked him?” Severus didn’t answer. “Have you ever asked him how he _does_ feel, Severus? About you?” Graham paused briefly. “Severus, have you ever asked him what would make him happy?”

“Of course I have!”

“And what was his answer?”

No reply.

“Severus,” Graham said, lowering his voice. “What was his answer?”

“He said he’d rather be dead than to be married to me!” Severus cried out.

Graham sat back in his chair and looked at Severus sadly. “Our time is up. We shall continue this tomorrow. Good evening, Severus.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Six**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus spent the night pacing. He went over and over in his mind the last words Healer Graham had said.

_“I would like you to think about the possibility of Harry never being happy if you two were still married and how it would make you feel._

“What does it matter how I _feel_ if we’re no longer married?” Severus said out loud to no one.

Severus scoffed and continued pacing, opening and closing his fists.

_“…and even possibly end up hating you for the rest of your life.”_

“He won’t hate me! He _doesn’t_ hate me!” Severus cried out in his cell.

_“Severus, have you ever asked him what would make him happy?”_

Severus stopped and hung his head and sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands and sat down on the edge of his cot. He _did_ try to make Harry happy. He never understood why Harry _wasn’t_ happy and why he considered Severus such a terrible husband. Everything that he knew Harry would want, he gave him. As far as Severus was concerned, he did everything possible to insure Harry's happiness.

_“He said he’d rather be dead than to be married to me!”_

Severus fell backwards and stared at the ceiling. He was convinced that Harry just said those things in anger and that if they were married just a little while longer, Harry _never_ would have wanted to leave him.

Ever.

Severus fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus woke up with a frown on his face. He had a dream last night and now for the life of him, couldn’t remember what it was about. He did know it wasn’t a pleasant one. Severus tried to recall something – anything – but nothing came to mind. Suddenly, Severus remembered. Harry was in it. And Severus was angry with him.

“Nonsense,” Severus said to himself. “It was a dream brought on by that meddling healer. There’s no reason why I’d be angry with my husband.”

Severus nodded assuredly and began to get ready for his day.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Good afternoon, Severus.”

Severus smirked at Healer Graham and bowed his head in a mock greeting. “Afternoon, Alexander.”

Graham raised a questioning eyebrow at the informality. He gave Severus a half-smile and then spoke as if nothing unusual had been said.

“Today I would like to continue our discussion from yesterday.”

Severus nodded curtly.

“Have you thought about what we talked about? About Harry’s feelings towards you?”

“I did.”

“And what are your thoughts today?”

“No different than yesterday,” Severus said.

“I see. Would you mind elaborating?”

Severus sneered. “He was angry with me,” he said shortly.

Healer Graham nodded. “He is still very angry at you.”

Severus sat up tall in the sofa chair. “Not for much longer.”

Graham looked him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Severus scoffed. “What I mean,” he began slowly as if Graham was a child who needed things spelled out. “Is that he will not be angry at me for much longer.”

“And how do you know that, Severus?”

Severus gripped the armrests in frustration. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

There was a slight pause.

Finally, Graham replied, “What do _you_ believe the reason to be here is, Severus?”

Severus made a grunting noise in the back of his throat. “So my husband and I can reconcile, obviously.”

Graham folded his hands, placed them on the desk and leaned forward. “Severus, you do realise that you and Harry are no longer married.”

“Of course, I know that!” Severus snapped. He stopped for a moment, then sat back and smirked. “But there still is the bond.”

That caught Graham’s attention. “You are aware of the bond?”

Severus continued to smirk. “I am.”

“Does the bond still exist?”

Severus nodded once.

“Do you know how to remove it, as well?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Now why on earth would I want to do that?”

Even though Graham wanted desperately to continue, he decided to change the subject. He knew there would be plenty of time to discuss the importance of the bond in the future. He also knew that in Severus’s present state of mind, it would be fruitless.

“Severus, you said yesterday that you love Harry.”

Severus raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that Graham did not ask any further questions. Then he sneered. “Are you questioning my sincerity?” Severus said.

“No, of course not. Of course not.” Graham said, shaking his head. “Harry is a wonderful man, and it’s easy to see how anyone would be able to fall in love with him.”

Severus sat up proudly and nodded.

“But I would like to know what _you_ love about Harry?”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me, Severus, for asking, but I am merely curious because there was a time when there was a great deal of … animosity between the two of you.”

“What does that matter? That was in the past and people change,” Severus replied scornfully.

“Yes, that is true. And Harry has indeed changed.”

Severus smirked. “You see?”

“I am told, however, that part of him has changed for the worse.”

Severus grit his teeth. “I will admit that he has had a hard time accepting our relationship, but, as you very well know, he finally came around at the end.”

“Those months before that must have been very hard on you.”

“I managed,” Severus said smugly.

“Yes, you did. And I commend you for your patience.”

“And why is that?” Severus drawled.

“I do not believe that I would be able to handle being married to someone who was constantly angry. It must have been extremely frustrating for you.”

“Like I said,” Severus growled. “I managed.”

“And you did it brilliantly,” Graham said, smiling approvingly. He tilted his head to the side and pinched his brows together. “But I am still curious, Severus. What exactly do you love about Harry?”

“Everything!”

Graham nodded. “And when did your feelings towards Harry change?”

“The moment we were married.”

Graham looked at him thoughtfully. “You mean you fell in love with Harry the moment he became your husband?”

Severus pursed his lips together. “Not immediately, no.”

“So it was over time.”

“Yes,” Severus replied shortly.

Graham nodded again. “Yes, that’s usually how it happens. And, of course, the longer you spent time with him, your feelings towards him grew,” Graham surmised.

“Yes,” Severus hissed.

“Am I correct in assuming that one of the things you love about Harry is his wonderful sense of humour? His generous nature?”

“I’ve already told you! It is everything!”

Graham continued to nod “And Harry is very intelligent,” Graham stated.

“Yes, he is,” Severus agreed smugly.

“Did you enjoy having stimulating conversations with him?”

A sly smirk crossed Severus’s features. “Indeed.”

Graham ignored the innuendo. “Did he confide in you?”

There was a short moment of silence. Finally, Severus said evenly, “My husband was extremely busy, so there wasn’t much time for idle conversations.”

“Did he confide to his friends?”

“Do you have a point?” Severus sneered.

“Well, from what I understand, Harry had alienated himself from everyone. Including his friends.”

“He brought that on himself,” Severus said in a low and dangerous voice.

Graham frowned. “You seem to be angry with Harry.”

Severus clenched his jaw, but said nothing. 

“Well, that is understandable. It must have been difficult for you. To have your husband isolate himself and you being unable to help him.”

“I _did_ try to help him!” Severus said, raising his voice.

“Yes, I’m sure you did. But Harry never accepted your help, did he, Severus? Nor from his friends.”

“I am tired of repeating myself, Healer Graham,” Severus snapped. “My husband had a difficult time adjusting to our marriage!”

Graham nodded in agreement, then looked at Severus sadly. “Do you know the reason why?”

Severus’s breathing accelerated and glared at Graham.

Graham glanced at the clock on the mantel, and then looked back at Severus. “I see that our time is up.”

Severus stood up abruptly and marched towards the door.

“Severus, I would like you to think about something for our next session.”

Severus glanced over his shoulder. “And what would that be?” Severus asked mockingly.

“For the past hour, you have not once called Harry by name. You have only referred to him as ‘your husband’.”

Severus’s nostrils flared.

“Good evening, Severus.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Seven**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Healer Alexander Graham sat back in his chair and pinched his nose between his eyes. It had been a long three months of counseling with Severus. In some ways Severus had progressed quite a bit, but in other ways… Well, it just didn’t seem as if Alexander was making any kind of impact on Severus, or his way of looking at things. He was convinced that Severus was secretly suppressing his obsession for Harry, and he had become very good at hiding it.

With Harry, it had not been so difficult. Once he had the support from his friends, he had progressed even further. He was almost becoming himself again. Although, there was still a dark cloud hovering over his head, and at times it seemed as if Harry was in his own world, locked away in his mind. But, Alexander knew that from what everything Harry had gone through, it didn’t really surprise him. There would always be a part of Harry that will never be the same. The main thing that troubled Alexander about Harry, though, was if Harry would _ever_ be comfortable enough with _anyone_ to talk about sex. Let alone if Harry could even be capable of having a normal sexual relationship. Alexander wondered if it was even possible. He supposed only time would tell.

Alexander stretched his arms over his head before returning back to Severus’s file that lay out in front of him. As he thumbed through all of his notes, he started thinking back on what Severus and he had accomplished. The first two months were the hardest for Severus and Alexander alike. For Alexander, it became frustrating to hear Severus repeat the same things over and over again. For Severus, Alexander knew it had to have been frustrating for him to hear Alexander repeat the same _questions_ over and over again.

Fortunately, Alexander finally prevailed with certain topics, once Severus finally realised that the only way to stop the incessant questions was to tell the truth. Well, it was that along with the hollow threat Alexander made of administering Veritaserum to Severus. After that, Severus had been a little more co-operative.

One of the first goals Alexander wanted to achieve was to have Severus remember what Harry was like _before_ the Life-Debt/marriage, and how Harry had only changed for the worse. Instead of being an infantile brat, as Severus had once called him, Harry had changed into a bitter, uncaring, shell of a man. Alexander had to break this illusion of Harry being the loving husband that Severus had been clinging to. Of course, what that meant to Alexander was that he would finally get to the heart of Severus’s obsession.

Another goal of Alexander's was once the illusion _had_ been broken, he wanted Severus to see Harry as a person. Someone with feelings. Someone who was not only angry at Severus, but had been angry at the whole world. _And_ that it was _Severus_ who had caused this hatred in Harry. But most of all, Alexander wanted Severus to take responsibility for his actions. That, Alexander knew, would be asking too much from Severus, and quite possibly _im_ -possible. But it was a goal of Alexander's just the same.

And so, instead of dwelling on what would _not_ be discussed for some time, Alexander began with simpler issues. For starters, Alexander wanted Severus to reveal what was the basic reason he had asked for the Life-Debt in the first place. At the beginning of the counseling, Severus had been adamant that he had saved Harry. However, when Alexander had pointed out that even though Severus had _intended_ to save Harry, he, in fact, did not. Alexander was smart enough to quickly deviate from their ongoing argument by rephrasing the question.

Alexander asked Severus that if he _had_ saved Harry’s life, why of all things did he choose a marriage of convenience? The Life-Debt to protect both of them was understandable, but a marriage? Why? It took several days – weeks in fact - before Severus had finally hinted why. He had chosen a marriage of convenience for his own selfish reasons.

Through Severus’s vague answers, Alexander had determined that Severus had felt that he had been denied the respect that he had thought he had deserved. So, in Severus’s eyes, by marrying the famous Harry Potter, he would not only gain respect from the Wizarding World, but it would also give him a higher status, and not be known as a half-blood – although the Wizarding World did not know this.

One thing Severus _had_ admitted to was his anger towards James Potter, and the marriage would be his revenge of all of the tortures James and the others had inflicted upon him. To Alexander, it was quite odd that Severus hadn’t realised what he had just confessed to; he had just contradicted his ongoing proclamations of his love toward Harry, and how that was one of the main reasons for marrying him. Perhaps with confessions such as those, it wouldn’t be so hard after all to get Severus to see the ‘real’ Harry.

Unfortunately, however, it was clear to Alexander that one other reason why Severus chose marriage was because Severus had longed for power, and to have Harry Potter in his control was just too tempting.

Alexander had continued on with the discussion of the Life-Debt, but this time it was in reference to Voldemort, and the fact that Voldemort had been killed. At first, Severus avoided the question, but with persistence from Alexander, Severus had confessed that he wasn’t really concerned with that trivial fact. In his eyes, there had been no evidence and no body. Not to mention the fact that Harry did not remember what had happen. It was then that Alexander quickly reminded Severus that he had concocted a potion that would erase Harry's memory for good.

Severus immediately changed the subject.

Alexander decided to take a chance and bring up Harry. Instantly, Severus’s demeanor had changed. He appeared confident, and looked as if he knew that _nothing_ Alexander could say to him would change his mind about how he felt about Harry. But Alexander watched Severus closely, and he could tell that Severus was hiding a slight discomfort. Even though Severus sat tall in his chair with his chest prominently sticking out, his leg bounced every now and then, and his eyes twitched.

Carefully, Alexander began by asking how Severus had felt when Harry outright refused to sign the Life-Debt, and he even had gone so far as to risk going to Azkaban over it. Severus naturally became angry, and went into another lecture about how Harry did not own up to his responsibilities, and that Harry was a self-centered, spoiled child. When Severus had completed his ranting, Alexander asked him once again how Severus, or anyone _else_ for that matter, would want to marry someone like that.

Again, Severus changed the subject.

After several sessions later, when the topic came up once again, Severus had actually admitted that he had felt insulted, felt angry and yes, even had felt rejected by Harry's refusal. Severus also confessed that it was at that point when he had realised that the only way Harry would be able to accept the Life-Debt/marriage, was to have Severus be as accommodating as possible. He knew that he was never going to win Harry over with anger.

This was the opportunity Alexander had been patiently waiting for. The question of what exactly did Severus _do_ that was so accommodating?

Instead of jumping into the question straightaway, Alexander started off gradually. First he had brought up Ginny Weasley, and that she, and Harry’s love for her, would certainly have been an obstacle if Severus was trying to ‘win Harry over’. _Had_ Severus really not have known that they were serious? Strangely, Severus didn’t mind admitting that yes, he _had_ known, and that it was of no concern of his. Harry had a responsibility and that was that. Severus also had no problem in confessing that it had been _him_ that was behind the decision to remove Ginny from Hogwarts. Not her father.

From there, Alexander quickly shifted the topic to Harry’s sexuality and the fact that he was a heterosexual. Alexander listened to Severus adamantly explain that Harry being a heterosexual was completely irrelevant, and it was never an issue to Severus. Not only would Harry not have a choice in the matter, but Harry would have to accept it as his duty as Severus’s husband. Being a heterosexual was no excuse. Alexander hoped that his feeling of revulsion was not showing on his face.

Casting that thought aside for now, Alexander questioned Severus regarding _his_ sexuality, and when he first knew that he was a homosexual. Surprisingly, Severus was not in the least bit offended, nor did he seem embarrassed by the question. He seemed almost _proud_ of the fact that, not only he had been a homosexual for as long as he could remember, but that he was highly skilled as a lover. In fact, so skilled and so confident that Severus also had no problem in boasting that one of the things Severus had been ‘required’ to do whilst he had worked under Voldemort as a spy, was to obtain vital information from the enemy - or whoever else Voldemort had chosen - using sex as a weapon.

Although it probably looked as if Alexander was nodding with understanding, he was actually nodding because everything now was beginning to make sense.

Because Severus was confident as a lover – it even bordered on narcissism – he had assumed that he could use his ‘skills’ on Harry, and Harry would be so over-whelmed by such an all-consuming pleasure, that it really wouldn’t make a difference if Harry was straight or not. It _would_ be irrelevant; Harry would be drowning in ecstasy at the hands of Severus Snape.

But instead, when Harry had _refused_ Severus’s advances, Severus’s arrogance of knowing he was such a skilled lover took over, and Harry had changed from being a spoiled brat into nothing more than a unobtainable challenge.

And so, as Alexander continued to listen to Severus, the answer to his long awaited _un_ -answered question had arrived. He had _finally_ discovered the heart of Severus’s obsession:

Harry had told him no to sex, and Severus was not used to being told no.

And so, the more Harry had refused Severus, the more Severus had wanted Harry. And soon it didn’t matter anymore to Severus about his selfish desires of greed, status, or even respect from the Wizarding World. It was now all about Harry.

Alexander mentally shook his head. All of this. Over a sexual conquest.

Alexander cleared his thoughts, and asked Severus about the one thing he thought for _sure_ Severus had regretted: the wedding night. As expected, Severus gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Clearly, this wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss. Alexander waited patiently to see if Severus would elaborate. If he did not, Alexander would simply move on and come back to it later.

After a few tense moments, Severus had finally acknowledged that yes, he had regretted how the wedding night ‘events’ had turned out, but - just like every other topic they had been talking about - it had not been Severus’s fault. This time it had been Albus Dumbledore's. Severus stated matter of fact that _Dumbledore_ should have been the one to explain everything to Harry in detail. Not him. It took all of Alexander’s will-power to look at Severus compassionately, and tell him as sincerely as he could, that it must have been so hard on Severus to have resorted to such brutality.

Inwardly, however, Alexander was absolutely repulsed. Just the thought of Harry being raped by this man… He couldn’t help but shudder at the horrible image.

Severus, however, did not look repulsed, nor did he act regretful. He still looked angry. When Alexander asked him about that, Severus went on again about how it had been Dumbledore's fault, and that if Harry would have co-operated in the first place, none of that would have happened. But Alexander refused to let this go. It was _Severus_ who had raped Harry. Not Dumbledore and he was going to get Severus to see that one way or another.

So, he tried again.

“Yes, of course, it had to be done. The loss of both of your powers was at stake.”

Severus nodded curtly. “Exactly. I had no choice.”

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you.” Alexander paused. “Or Harry.”

Severus narrowed his eyes and sneered. “What was done was done,” he replied snidely.

“Yes, that’s true,” Alexander said softly. He shook his head slowly. “Poor Harry. To be introduced to sex in that manner.”

Severus’s nose was flaring as he breathed in and out deeply.

Alexander didn’t meet Severus’s eyes, but he knew that Severus was burning holes into his skull with his hateful glare. When he looked up, his suspicions were confirmed. Alexander, however, ignored it and gave Severus a warm smile.

“But again, I know it must have been harder on you. Just to know that you were the one--”

“Yes, I was!” Severus shouted. “I had raped my husband! Isn’t that what you wanted to hear? Isn’t that why you have been going on and on about it? To hear me say that I had raped him?” he screamed.

“I was only trying to be--”

“No, you weren’t! You were… you _are_ trying to get me to admit that I am a _rapist!_ Well, I won’t do it! I did what I had to do! I. Had. No. CHOICE! Do you not understand that?”

Alexander sat back in his chair, and calmly folded his hands in his lap.

“Now, are you going to drop this or not?” Severus barked. When silence was Severus’s only answer, he yelled, “What? What more do you _want_ from me?”

Alexander looked him long and hard before leaning forward and transferred his folded hands onto his desk.

“What I would like, Severus, is for you to acknowledge that that night had a very profound effect on Harry.”

“I know that!”

Alexander barely shook his head. “No, I don’t believe you do. That night had completely destroyed Harry, and he has never fully recovered.”

“And how do you know that?” Severus snapped.

A small satisfied smile crossed Alexander's lips. “Because he told me.”

Severus inhaled sharply, and then the silence that had followed suffocated the room. Neither one spoke for several minutes. They both remained where they were, eyes locked onto one another, as if daring each other to be the first one to speak. It was only when Severus had nervously shifted in his seat that had broken the tension in the air. He looked away and frowned.

A few more seconds went by before Severus cleared his throat, and, still not meeting Alexander's eyes, he asked softly, “What do you want me to say?”

“I would like you to say that you are sorry,” Alexander replied firmly.

Severus shot a quick glance to Alexander, looked away again, and then nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Not to me, you arrogant bastard! To Harry!”

Severus jumped in his seat, and opened his mouth in shock.

“Do _you_ not understand? It is _Harry_ that is suffering! Not you! Do you honestly think that any of this is for _you_?” Alexander shouted.

“I-I…”

“I am doing this for Harry! The same man that you had abused for three months! Now get the hell out of my office before I do something that will earn me a ticket to Azkaban!”

As Severus nearly ran out of Alexander's office, Alexander closed his eyes and cursed silently. Damn Severus Snape. He was so close to learning about the bond.

Alexander winced and cursed silently again but this time it was aimed at himself. He should have never lost control like that. He knew better. He was supposed to be unbiased. In all his years as a Healer, he _had_ been impartial. Alexander lowered his head and sighed sadly. He was ashamed of himself. He should have _never_ got that emotionally involved with a patient. It was ruining his judgment.

He wondered if there was still a chance to rectify the situation. It might be months before Severus would confide in him again. But still…

There was a small part of Alexander that blamed Severus for his actions even though he knew he shouldn’t. 

_‘No,’_ Alexander thought firmly. _‘I have **no one** to blame but myself.’_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was two weeks before Alexander had called Severus back in his office to continue his counseling sessions. Surprisingly, Severus was very subdued. Alexander thought perhaps Severus would have had the time to collect himself and re-gain his anger. But apparently, Alexander's indignant behaviour, along with his short dismissal, had an effect on Severus.

Good.

Well, it wasn’t good in reference to Alexander’s inexcusable behaviour, but maybe Severus would be more receptive this time to answering his questions more honestly, directly, and more importantly, without any retribution.

Like before, Alexander sat behind his desk leafing through Severus’s file. However, _this_ time, he wasn’t reading. He was testing Severus to see if he had really lost his anger, or if it was just biding its time. As the minutes slowly ticked by, Alexander knew it was the former.

Alexander straightened his notes, and then filed them in his desk drawer. He finally drew his attention to Severus, who had been patiently waiting for him to finish. Alexander was going to start, but it was Severus who had spoken first.

“I would like to apologise to you, Healer Graham, for my behaviour the other week. My anger was unwarranted.”

Alexander paused a moment before replying. He wanted to give the impression that he was considering whether to accept it or not.

Finally, Alexander nodded. “Thank you, Severus. And I wish to apologise to you, as well.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate because truthfully, he really didn’t want to go into specifics just to have the whole thing rehashed.

“Today, I would like to focus on Harry again.”

Severus cringed slightly, but nodded his consent.

“I had asked you in the beginning about your consideration towards Harry’s feelings, but today, I would like to discuss yours.”

Severus frowned in confusion.

“Oh, we will be talking about Harry today, it’s just that I would like to start with you,” Alexander clarified.

“Very well,” Severus replied skeptically.

Alexander smiled. “No need to be concerned, Severus. They will be simple questions.”

Again, Severus nodded.

“When the trial was over,” Alexander began, and he had noticed how Severus’s jaw had tightened. He ignored it and continued on as if he didn’t see it. “And the contract was signed; it must have been a huge relief on your part.”

“Yes,” Severus answered slowly.

“Harry had finally owned up to his responsibilities, and things were going smoothly.”

It was a statement, but Alexander knew that it sounded more like a question.

“I wouldn’t go that far, no,” Severus replied.

“Harry was still rebelling,” Alexander simply said.

“Yes,” Severus remarked with a hint of annoyance.

Alexander nodded in understanding. “It must have been frustrating for you to think you had everything in order, but Harry was still making things difficult.” Without giving Severus a chance to respond, Alexander kept going. “And the embarrassment you must have felt at your own wedding. I know if it had been me, I would have been very angry.”

Alexander could tell Severus was grinding his teeth but he did not answer.

Alexander leaned forward in his chair. “It’s all right, Severus, to admit you were angry. No one will hold it against you.”

There was a long pause, enough for Severus to think about it.

“Yes. I was angry,” he replied resolutely.

Alexander nodded again. “I don’t blame you at all.” Suddenly, Alexander tsked. “And to see how Harry had carried on the way he did. Long after you two were wed.”

“What’s your point?” Severus quipped.

Alexander sighed. “I just don’t understand how you could have possibly been so understanding. He surely would have been a constant irritation to you. To have such a negative person around you day in and day out. Again, I don’t understand how you had managed it.”

“Like I had said before, I handled it,” Severus grit out.

“Yes, I can see that.” Alexander paused again. “Severus, I’m curious. Was Harry _ever_ happy whilst you were together?” he asked earnestly.

Severus remained silent.

“Severus, please disregard what I had said before. I really _am_ trying to help you. I was only frustrated because you wouldn’t talk to me. I want you to trust me.”

Severus laughed hollowly. “Trust you? When have you ever gave me _any_ reason to trust you?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Severus,” Alexander said sincerely. “If I had not cared, wouldn’t you have thought that I would’ve dismissed you, and recommended you be placed in Azkaban?”

Severus snorted. “You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that to _Harry_. Because you still don’t know how the bond would affect him,” he said smugly.

“Yes, that’s true,” Alexander said nodding. “But however you may feel, I _do_ care about your well-being. If I did not, you wouldn’t be here in counseling.”

“You are only keeping me here because you want to know how to release the bond,” Severus spat.

“I will admit that is one reason, but there are other reasons, as well.”

“Like what?” Severus asked shortly.

Alexander leaned forward to make his point. “I want to know how you could have possibly loved someone who didn’t love you in return. I want to know what you saw in him. He never treated you well, Severus. He never cared for you. And do not sit there and give me some hogwash about you loving him simply because he was your husband,” Alexander retorted. “So tell me what was so special about Harry, Severus? Tell me what was there to love?”

“He… he…”

“Did you have enjoyable conversations? Did you laugh together? Did you even do _anything_ together aside from sex?” Alexander demanded.

Severus sat in silence, gripping the arms of the chair.

Alexander glanced at the mantel clock. “We will resume this conversation tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you to think about what I said. And I want you to come up with a logical reason of why you loved him at all.”

Severus still remained quiet.

“That will be all, Severus. Have a good night.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Eight**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus Snape was pacing back and forth in his room. Yesterday’s counseling session didn’t go well at all, and today’s was worse. He was getting so tired of being asked if he loved Harry. _Of course_ he loved Harry, and he didn’t understand _why_ Graham didn’t believe him, and _why_ he kept asking him.

What did Graham expect him to remember? That Harry was an infantile brat before he was married? Of course he knew that. But after they were married Harry was…

Severus stopped pacing. He clenched his hands into fist and growled. He knew what Harry was. Harry was…

“Argh!”

Severus started pacing again. No. He wouldn’t let Graham to get to him. He wouldn’t let Graham convince him that Harry wasn’t a good man. That Harry was angry. Well… Harry _was_ angry but that was only because… because…

He was a child who wouldn’t accept his responsibilities! If he had, Harry would have been happy! Severus had _told_ Graham that! Over and over again. But since Harry had decided to fight him… Well, it was Harry’s own fault! Not his! Severus could see how unhappy Harry was, but Severus had _tried_ to help Harry. He _tried_! But Harry was just too stubborn! He wanted to act like a child, so Severus treated him like one!

Severus stopped pacing and sat on his cot. He stared at the wall and scowled.

He hated admitting that he was angry at Harry. He wasn’t supposed to be mad at Harry. Harry is his husband and a husband is supposed to _love_ you unconditionally. And what Severus loved most about Harry was… was…

That bloody healer! It’s all _his_ fault for putting such doubtful suggestions into Severus’s mind. 

Severus went to bed angry that night.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_Harry thrust one last time, stilled, and emptied himself completely before pushing back, and carelessly shoving Severus sideways. Severus stumbled at the unexpected move, and landed on his hip with a soft thud. He looked up at Harry, surprised. The young wizard was fully dressed, and stood over him, arms casually crossed in front. He was leering down at Severus with an evil smirk playing on his lips. Severus stared back, brows crunched in confusion. Harry bent down, and loomed over him, inches away from his face._

_“So tell me, Severus,” he said, smiling wickedly. “Did you enjoy that? Tell me honestly now.”_

_Instantly, Severus’s expression turned cold. “No,” he said flatly._

_“No?” Harry echoed, raising his eyebrows in mock concern. “At all?” But before Severus had a chance to answer, Harry knelt before him, and stroked his jaw with his fingertips. “But you tried, didn’t you, Severus?”_

_Severus barely nodded._

_Harry looked at him with a mock pout. “Did you feel lonely, Severus? Cold? Empty?” He paused to emphasise, “ **Angry?** ” His voice was now bitter._

_“Yes,” Snape snarled._

_Harry smiled and stood up. “Good.”_

_Severus stared at him, stunned._

_“I wanted you to know how I feel each and every time you touch me,” Harry sneered. “Each time we **fuck**. And no matter how hard you tried to please me, I **still** feel empty, cold. And **angry**.”_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus woke up furious.

Fucking Harry Potter.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“And how are you doing today, Severus?”

“I’m fine,” Severus scowled.

Healer Graham tilted his head to the side and frowned.

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m fine,” Severus insisted with a sneer.

“You seem angry,” Graham said, still frowning.

“I said I’m fine!” Severus snapped.

“Yes, I heard you. But I don’t believe you. Why are you so angry?”

Silence.

“Severus?”

“If you _must_ know, I’m angry at _you!”_

Healer Graham’s brows furrowed. “Me? Why are you angry at me?”

Severus stayed silent a moment before blurting out, “Because it’s all your fault!”

“I’m not sure I’m following you, Severus. _What_ is my fault?”

“If you hadn’t been corrupting my mind with such negative and persuasive suggestions, I wouldn’t be having nightmares!” 

Healer Graham sat back in his chair, looking genuinely concerned.

“You had another nightmare?”

“What do you _mean_ ‘another’?” Severus asked, surprised.

“Severus, you have been having nightmares now for several weeks.”

“I have not!” Severus insisted. He searched Graham’s eyes for deception. There was none. “How do you know this? Have you been watching me while I slept?” Severus asked, appalled.

“Of course. I have been watching you _and_ Harry.”

“You have been watching Harry? How he is doing?” Severus quickly asked.

Healer Graham shook his head slowly. “Not so well. He has been having nightmares, as well.”

Severus looked down at his lap. “Oh,” was all he could say.

“Severus, would you care to share with me your dream?”

Severus looked back up. “No, I would not,” he said angrily. He looked away and thought a moment. He glanced over to Graham and asked softly, “Does Harry tell you what _his_ dreams are about?”

“Of course.”

_“And?”_

“They are always about you,” Graham said simply.

Severus sat there quietly, and stared at the wall behind Healer Graham.

“What do _you_ dream about, Severus?”

Severus gritted his teeth.

“Harry?”

“Yes!” Severus snapped.

Graham nodded. “Are they always nightmares?”

“No, they are always so wonderful,” Severus drawled.

“Are they memories?”

Severus was silent again.

“Severus. Are they--”

“Yes! Are you proud of yourself now?”

“Proud? I don’t understand.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been remembering!”

“Remembering what?”

“Remembering how much he had angered me! Remembering how much I…I…”

“Hate him?” Healer Graham asked.

“Yes!” Severus shouted, but then quickly added, “I mean no! No, I don’t hate him!”

“Of course not.”

“Do not mock me, Healer. I _don’t_ hate him. I just…”

“Do not love him?” Graham offered.

“I did not say that!”

Healer Graham nodded sympathetically.

Severus looked away and growled, “You bastard.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“How are you doing today, Harry?”

Harry pulled his legs up tight and wrapped his arms around them. He half-shrugged. “All right, I guess,” he said softly.

“Did you have another bad dream”?

Harry shrugged again. “Sort of.”

“Care to tell me?”

Harry looked away and blushed.

“Was it about Severus again?”

Harry didn’t look at Alexander but he nodded.

“What was he doing to you?”

Harry worried his bottom lip and then swallowed. “Nothing,” he whispered.

“You were doing something to him?”

Harry bowed his head and nodded.

“Would you share it with me?”

Harry shook his head.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“You seem quiet today, Severus. Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“You look as if something is on your mind. Would you share it with me?”

“I…” Severus looked at his hands resting in his lap. “I was wondering when I would be able to see Harry.”

“I see. And what would you say to him?”

Severus closed his eyes. “I would like to tell him that I am sorry.”

“For what?”

Severus’s jaw clenched.

“What are you sorry for, Severus?”

Severus’s head snapped up. “You _know_ what!”

“Tell me.”

“I want to say it to _Harry_ ,” Severus said shortly.

“Tell me first.”

Severus pursed his lips tight.

“Severus, if you cannot say it to me, how will you be able to say it to him?”

Severus growled in his throat.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“No! I can’t!”

“Harry, the time has come to face him.”

“No! Why do I have to?”

“Harry, we’ve been over this several times. It’s part of your healing process.”

Harry hugged himself. “I can’t,” he whispered.

“What are you afraid of, Harry? He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“I know.”

“Then why? Tell me.”

Harry turned angry. “Because I’d fucking kill him!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Severus, I feel I must warn you. Harry is still very angry with you.”

“I know that,” Severus quipped.

“I’m asking you not to do anything that will upset him further.”

Severus sighed. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Severus said calmly, and then he looked at Healer Graham and frowned. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Are you doing this for me or for Harry? 

“For both of you.”

“Why?”

“Because you _both_ need healing.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry looked away briefly, and then took a deep breath to calm himself. He was so nervous. Finally, he turned back to Healer Graham and nodded. Alexander smiled warmly and nodded in return.

“You will do fine, Harry.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Alexander escorted Harry to the entrance of Severus’s room, and assured Harry again that it would be all right. Harry watched him leave, and then faced the closed door.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He reached out to open the door.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	39. Chapter Thirty Nine

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Thirty Nine**

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry held onto the doorknob for dear life. He was so nervous he was afraid that if he was to let go, he would collapse to his knees. He glanced back, wondering if Alexander was watching him. Perhaps he could just turn away now, and run back to his room and nobody would notice.

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten. Part of his mind was telling his feet to make a break for it, whilst the other part was telling his hand to just open the _bloody door!_ Harry slowly opened his eyes, and stared long and hard at the knob. His eyes drifted to his wedding ring, and then his anger came back to him full force.

Without another thought of doubt, Harry turned the knob, and bolted into the room.

Harry's eyes immediately landed on a pair of dark onyx ones. His body began to tremble in rage. He wished so hard at that moment that he had his wand. There was a chair sitting across from Snape, but he ignored it. He marched over to Snape and stood before him.

Harry was so enraged that he didn’t know what to say first. He was suddenly at a loss for words. All he could do was glare with hatred in his eyes. But, he also knew it would only take one word out of Snape's mouth to start his screaming. One word … _or_ one look.

But Snape never spoke. Instead he sat in his chair, watching Harry passively and very carefully. Perhaps he too was waiting. Harry's body began to shake harder, and he opened and closed his fists. Harry knew he was a bomb ready to explode.

And then suddenly, Snape opened his mouth to speak. That’s all it took.

“Don’t you say a word to me! Not one fucking word!” Harry yelled. “There is _nothing_ that you could possibly say to me that would be worth listening to!”

Snape closed his mouth and nodded.

“And don’t you _dare_ try to patronise me, you arrogant bastard!”

Snape didn’t move a muscle, but kept his eyes focused on Harry, obviously trying not to betray any emotions that would upset Harry – which made Harry even angrier.

Harry said the first thing that popped into his screaming mind.

“You lied to me!” Harry cried, advancing towards Snape. “All this time! It was all a fucking LIE! You made me _believe_ …”

Harry’s words caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, although a tear of frustration and pain ran down his cheek. He opened his eyes again, but as soon as they met Snape's, his anger came back ten-fold.

“How could you? How COULD you? Do you have _any_ idea of what you put me through? Do you even fucking _care?”_ Harry screamed, but he continued on, answering himself. “Of course, you don’t! You never have! You don’t give a _fuck_ about anything or anyone else but _yourself!”_

Snape was _still_ sitting perfectly still, not making a move, or displaying any type of emotions. Which again, infuriated Harry.

“You used me! You fucking _used_ me!” Harry yelled louder. “I want to hear it! I want to hear from your own lips that you used me!”

Snape made the mistake of opening his mouth.

“NO!” Harry screamed at the top of his lungs. “Don’t you dare say a fucking _word_ to me!”

Immediately, Harry ran over to him, and slammed into the invisible barrier that separated the two. Harry started pounding on it.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you! You ruined my life, you bastard! Do you understand that? _Do you?”_ Harry shouted, still pounding his fists against the shield.

Snape stood up and backed away.

“Don’t run away from me, you coward! Come here and face me! Because I want to see the look in your eyes when I kill you! Do you hear me? I’m going to fucking _kill_ you!” Harry turned his head to the door. “Remove this right now, and let me kill him!”

Instantly, two mediwizards came rushing in.

“Take down this shield!” Harry cried hysterically. “Let me have him!”

The two men grabbed Harry, and started pulling him away.

Harry began thrashing within their strong hold.

“No! Release me and let me kill him!” Harry screamed, kicking his legs.

Instantly, Harry collapsed in the two men’s arms from a quick Stunning Spell.

He never saw Snape bow his head in shame.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Harry awoke in his bed, his memory of what had happened with Snape came flooding back to him. He wrapped his arms around himself and cried. Suddenly, Harry leaned off the bed and vomited on the ground.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Harry hugged his legs protectively, and rested his head on his knees. Minutes went by with neither Harry nor Alexander saying a word. Finally, he raised his head, but didn’t look at the healer. Instead, he stared at the floor.

“I really wanted to kill him,” he whispered.

“I know, Harry,” Alexander whispered back.

“I would have done it, too.”

“I know.”

Harry was aware that Alexander wanted desperately to hold him and tell him it was going to be all right, but he also knew that Alexander knew when it was time to hold him and offer comfort…

And when to not.

Silence filled the room again. But it was only when Harry’s tears turned into sobs, and his body started to shake uncontrollably, that Alexander came rushing over to him. Harry was too distraught to care. Unconsciously, he leaned into Alexander’s embrace.

“I-I don’t k-know if I can d-do that again,” Harry said through shaky breaths. “I don’t know if I can face him again.”

Alexander rubbed Harry's arm. “Shh. Let’s not think of that right now,” he whispered softly. “Let’s concentrate on your breathing first.”

Harry still continued to tremble.

“Come on, Harry. Take a deep breath with me.”

Harry followed Alexander's lead and took in a half-breath.

“That’s it. Now another. Come on, Harry, I know you can do it.”

Harry breathed in twice more before a long and steady gasp of air entered his lungs.

“Shh. That’s it,” Alexander said soothingly. “One more.”

After Harry finished exhaling, he closed his eyes and smiled.

Alexander, noticing this, frowned in confusion. “Harry? What is it?”

Harry wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, and sat up straight. He glanced sideways at Alexander.

“Nothing. I just…” Harry began. He smile grew, and then finally met Alexander's questioning gaze. “I just thought of someone, that’s all.”

Alexander grinned. “Would that happen to be Draco Malfoy?”

Harry opened his mouth and gasped. “H-how did you--”

Still smiling, Alexander said, “It wasn’t too difficult to figure out. You _have_ spoken of him before.”

Blushing, Harry lowered his head.

“One day, I’d like to meet him.”

Harry's eyes widened and gaped at him. “Why?”

Alexander was still grinning. “To tell him ‘thank you’, of course.”

Harry's face turned red again, and he whispered, “Oh.” After a brief pause, Harry said softly, “Me too.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was a few more sessions with Alexander before Harry had agreed to meet with Snape again. He was told by Alexander that not only had Harry's outburst made _himself_ physically sick, but Severus Snape became ill, as well. Harry was secretly happy to hear that, of course, but the thought of two days of retching again was not appealing.

As Harry sat back on the sofa listening to Alexander, he twisted his ring on his finger, and every now and then he tried to pull it off. As all the times before, he had grimaced when he had pulled on it too hard. Harry looked up when he heard Alexander sigh with sympathy.

Harry asked him how it was possible that the ring had remained since it was a _wedding_ ring, and it should have been able to come off when the marriage ended. Alexander reminded Harry that the ring wasn’t _just_ a wedding ring, but a _bonding_ ring as well, and that it would only come off when the _bond_ was broken. Alexander went on to explain that in a typical bonding marriage, once the marriage had ended, the ring would have automatically come off. However, since the ring did not in this case, it was clearly a different type of bond. One that probably only _Severus_ knows about.

It was also possible that Severus could have designed the ring – and the bond - himself.

Harry asked Alexander why they couldn’t just force Snape to take Veritaserum to see how to remove the bond, but sadly, Alexander said that they couldn't because they wouldn’t know what kind of affect it would have on Harry. Harry argued that he didn’t care, but Alexander countered that _no one_ was going to take that chance with Harry's life.

For all anyone knows, any direct attack on Severus – including submitting Severus to an involuntary truth serum - could injure Harry in the process.

And so, there was only thing left to do:

Somehow, someway, get Severus to confess what type of bond it was, and how to remove it.

Harry sighed in despair because he then knew at that moment…

He had no _choice_ but to confront Severus.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Even though a week had passed, and he knew more about the bond, Harry honestly thought he had his emotions under control. But as soon as he saw Snape, his anger had erupted again. And like the first time, Snape just sat there, watching Harry scream at him over and over again. Harry had to be escorted out again, but at least this time he was conscious.

However, that didn’t mean anything. Harry was _still_ sick afterwards for two days.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Severus had refused to talk with Alexander since the first meeting with Harry. There was nothing to say. There was nothing he _could_ say. Not to Alexander, nor to Harry.

He didn’t even know if he could say anything to _himself._ He hung his head and sighed. This was becoming more complicated that he had previously thought.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

By the fifth visit with Snape, Harry was finally able to sit down in the chair, although his right leg was still bouncing with anger. Every once in awhile, Harry could tell Snape wanted to say something to him, but instead Snape had looked away. Deep down, Harry knew that one day _Snape_ would be the one who would explode. Harry just couldn’t believe that Snape had changed so much these few months that it had humbled him.

Harry wanted to test Snape just to prove if his suspicions were correct.

Staring into Snape's eyes, Harry asked, “So, Severus, tell me. Did you honestly think you would have been able to get away with this? That I wouldn’t have been able to find out? That _no one_ wouldn’t have been able to figure it out?”

Harry could see Snape's jaw tighten.

Harry scoffed. “You did, didn’t you?”

Snape's nostrils flared.

Harry shook his head. “You really _are_ an arrogant bastard.” Ignoring Snape's hateful look, Harry continued. “You know Malfoy was right about you,” Harry said, taking great satisfaction when Snape's fists clenched when he heard the name ‘Malfoy’. “I was only your _property_ ,” Harry hissed. “You never loved me. You never even _cared_ about me. All you wanted was a … _fuck._ ”

Snape's eyes widened with rage, but remained quiet.

“Oh, come on, Snape, admit it,” Harry snapped. “For once in your miserable life tell the truth!”

When silence was Harry's only answer, Harry stood and scoffed with disgust. He walked to the door, but before he opened it, he turned around to look at Snape one last time.

“You know, _Severus,_ I never told you this, but you were a really lousy fuck.”

As Harry left the room, he couldn’t help but smirk when he heard Snape scream and slam into the invisible barrier.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Harry,” Alexander tsked with a small half-smile playing on his lips.

Harry grinned evilly back at him. “I know.”

“Was that really necessary?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know. But it felt _good._ ”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

For a chilly day in September, the sky was clear. Harry lay back on the blanket, staring at the endless, blue sky; whilst his mind replayed the ‘meeting’ with Snape he had two days ago.

Their eyes had locked onto each other when Harry had entered Snape's room, and it was only broken when Snape had motioned to a near-by chair. Harry slowly sat down and avoided Snape's stare by looking around the room. He never really had paid any attention the last few times he was here. 

The walls were not as bare as Harry’s room. Non-moving pictures of past wizards that were sent to death adorned them, apparently to remind Snape of his crimes, and what _could_ have happened to _him_. Harry didn’t know why a sudden chill went through him. He quickly averted his attention to the small single bed in the corner, and then to the empty bookshelf in the other. In the centre of the room, sat Snape; sitting behind a semi-large desk that held dozens of tomes stacked high. 

Running out of things to look at, Harry lowered his eyes to the floor before slowly peering up at Snape, who now was watching Harry's every move. Instantly, Harry drew his focus to the large number of books and squinted, trying to make out their contents. He glanced up at Snape. He was holding up a book for Harry to read. It was an advanced – but legal – book. It was the book that Harry had bought when they were married. ‘The Witch and Wizard’s Guide in Forced Marriages’.

Harry narrowed his eyes and scowled at Snape thinking that it was _his_ book, and Snape had stolen it. Snape quickly shook his head and pointed to himself. He mouthed the words, “It’s mine.” Harry raised a brow skeptically, but again, Snape shook his head. Sighing, Harry gestured to Snape to continue his studying. Snape had immersed himself back into his research again, and nothing else was said. After an hour of boredom, Harry quietly got up and left.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was an unspoken knowledge throughout the staff of St Mungo’s that the tree in which Harry sat under day after day was now labelled by them simply “Harry’s tree”. It was where he went to escape, and try to gain some perspective on his new life. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and let the cool, crisp air fill his lungs completely. Exhaling slowly, his eyes lazily opened, and admired the beautiful colours decorating the morning sky. He loved watching the beginning of a new day.

It always gave him hope.

Harry began to mentally congratulate himself on his progress at St Mungo’s. Not that the healers or his best friends didn’t congratulate him enough, but there was nothing like the feeling of self-satisfaction. He had definitely come far since the time he was first admitted here. He was almost feeling like himself again.

Well…almost.

Harry found himself unconsciously drawing his legs up to this chest, and wrapped his arms around them protectively. There was one part of his life that he knew he still had to address.

Sex.

There was no escaping it. Harry would have to eventually talk about it, face it, and then come to terms with it. He knew he should be discussing this with his healers, but he couldn’t. Not just yet. He had to figure this part out on his own.

Harry slowly lowered his legs, crossed them at his ankles, and leaned back once again. He stared absently at the ground, and tried to remember how the healers had begun the sessions. Suddenly, Harry mentally shook his head. No, this was different than all of the other topics he had discussed with them. He had to approach it differently.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but it was no use. His mind and his emotions were too muddled together. Only questions filled his mind. One main one in particular:

Was sex _really_ that important to him?

“Harry?”

Harry was startled out of his train of thought and sat up quickly. It was Hermione. He motioned her to sit down. She sat opposite of him and smiled softly.

“You wanted to see me?”

Harry returned the smile and nodded. Hermione tilted her head and waited. He looked down and began to fidget with the hem of his trousers.

“I wondered if you,” he paused briefly then took a deep breath. “I wondered if you could help me with something.”

He smiled to himself as he heard Hermione gasp, and could feel her tremble with anticipation. He looked back up, and couldn’t help but grin at her wide-eyed expression.

Harry had told both Ron and Hermione about the meetings with Snape, and how it was slowly progressing. He also had told them what Alexander said about _trying_ to work things out with Snape because if he did not, they - Snape and Harry - might upset the balance of the bond.

While Ron was still furious at Snape and didn’t want to hear anything about the two of them ‘working things out’, Hermione was a little more understanding, and able to realise Alexander had a good point. Because of this, Harry asked Hermione to come alone today.

“Healer Graham doesn’t know what kind of bond Snape had placed on the rings. He said only Snape would know, and he isn’t talking.”

Hermione frowned. “Have you come right out and asked him?”

Harry scowled at her playfully. “Gee, Hermione, why didn’t I think of that?”

Hermione flushed slightly and whispered, “Sorry.”

Harry smiled at her. “It’s all right. I was only playing,” he assured her, patting her hand. Harry looked away briefly and sighed. “I wish it _was_ that simple though. I know it _appears_ as if he is trying to research the bond, but, honestly, I think he’s just bluffing. I think he knows how to remove it, and the reason he won’t tell me is that he doesn’t want to let me go.”

“Gee, Harry, why didn’t I think of that?” Hermione teased.

Harry laughed. “I guess that _was_ a pretty stupid thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Hermione smiled. “So, I’m guessing you asked me here because you’d like me to help find out what kind of bond is in place?” she said, smirking.

Harry nodded. “Yes. I can’t help but wonder if it has to do something with the vows that were made. Maybe all it needs is to have the vows re-instated,” he offered hopefully.

Hermione bit her lower lip and scrunched up her face to think. “Hm. Maybe.” Then she shook her head. “I don’t know, Harry. Once the marriage and Life-Debt was deemed null, the vows would have ended with it.”

Harry sighed and his shoulders slouched. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

He flinched slightly when Hermione touched his arm.

“It will be all right, Harry. I just _know_ it.” She smiled to re-assure him. “I’ll look everywhere. I promise.”

Harry nodded with a small sly grin. “I know you will.”

Harry began to laugh aloud as he watched her demeanor grow with excitement just at the prospect of studying. “Well, go on then before you explode.”

Hermione jumped up to her feet, kissed Harry on his forehead, and ran away as fast as she could, trying hard not to trip or fall in the process.

“I promise I’ll find something, Harry!” Hermione yelled over her shoulder. “I'll be back soon!”

Harry laughed harder, watching her disappear around the building.

“Find something amusing, Potter?” came a familiar drawl.

Harry jumped from where he was sitting, and fell to the side, landing on his hip.

“Shit, Malfoy! You damn near gave me a heart attack!"

Draco smirked.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	40. Chapter Forty

  
Author's notes: Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I would like this opportunity to explain about the pairing in TDoaS. From the very beginning I knew that this was not going to be a typical Snarry story. It is a Harry story. It’s about love, friendship, betrayal, mental and physical cruelty, hatred, losing yourself, and then finally learning to feel again. It also has all of the people who had touched his life, and the ones who have been there for him.

And the ones who weren’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**Chapter Forty**

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Find something amusing, Potter?” came a familiar drawl.

Harry jumped and fell to the side, landing on his hip.

“Shit, Malfoy! You damn near gave me a heart attack!"

Draco smirked as he stood over Harry, then he raised his left eyebrow. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me to sit down?” he asked sarcastically.

Harry snorted and gestured to the ground. “Prat,” he murmured.

“Thank you," Draco replied smugly with a playful grin.

Both sat comfortably next to each other, but what followed was a long and awkward silence.

Finally, Draco turned his head to look at Harry, and asked gently, “How are you doing?”

Harry scoffed. “How do you _think_ I’m doing?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I already knew,” Draco answered simply.

Harry sighed deeply, and stared at his hands lying in his lap. “Honestly," he whispered, "I don’t know.”

“But I heard you're making progress,” Draco offered.

Harry glanced sideways at Draco and scowled. “Oh, yeah, right. I’m making _such_ progress that I still cringe when anyone touches me.”

“But...that’s understandable,” Draco said, trying to reassure him.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and his shoulders sagged. “Malfoy,” he began slowly. “I can't...I can’t even talk about what happened to me...” he said softly and then lowered his voice considerably. “...every day.”

“Of course you don’t want to talk about it yet. You’ve gone through a lot, and you did your best to--”

Instantly, Harry’s eyes snapped open and glared at Draco. “I did what I had to do to survive,” he said coldly.

“I know,” Draco agreed. “I know. It will just take time.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shook his head. “You don’t understand. He...he...haunts my dreams. I still have nightmares about him,” he admitted, glancing away. “And I...Sometimes I can still feel him touching me.” He bowed his head to hide his embarrassment.

“Then you need to talk to someone about it if it’s affecting you this badly,” Draco suggested quietly.

Harry's head immediately shot up. “Oh right, Malfoy! And what the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Yes, I was raped by my husband on a daily basis, but I fucking _enjoyed_ it’?” he shouted.

Draco’s lips parted briefly at Harry's surprising confession, but closed again just as fast. “P-Potter,” he began, stuttering. “It’s a natural physical reaction. Especially someone _our_ age, and--”

“Don’t give me that shit, Malfoy!” Harry interrupted. “Don’t you think that I have already thought of that? Don’t you think I have already tried to justify that that’s all it was?” Harry yelled.

Draco frowned sadly and was silent for a moment, trying to think of something to say that would be consoling. “Potter, it doesn’t mean that you're gay if that’s what you're worried about.”

“Excuse me, but I AM gay, remember?” Harry shot back, throwing Draco's words back at him. “Isn’t that what you said? That I’m married to a man so that makes me gay?”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “I know what I said,” Draco said defensively. “But I also know that you were _forced!_ There’s a difference!” he emphasised.

“I know that! But that still doesn’t change the fact that there were days when I _wanted_ sex!” Before Draco had a chance to respond, Harry continued. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m worried whether I’m gay or not! I don’t give a fuck about that, so I wish you’d quit bringing that crap up!”

Draco’s face went slightly pink. “Potter...”

“Don’t you get it, Malfoy? For months, it was all about _him._ Doing anything and everything that _he_ wanted to do. It meant _nothing_ to me and I felt... _used._ ” Harry felt his cheeks burn with shame and looked down, hoping Draco wouldn’t see it. He began again, nervously wringing his hands together. “When I started to...enjoy it...I felt so humiliated. That was when I realised that he had won.” He closed his eyes and barely shook his head. “I couldn’t let him win.”

Although Harry didn’t see him, Draco nodded anyway.

Harry peered up at Draco. “That’s when I started using a potion,” he said softly.

Draco frowned. “A potion?”

Harry nodded. “And a spell. It prevented me from...” He paused briefly, and felt himself turn red again. “From feeling anything. But...but some days I didn’t use it,” he quietly finished.

“Potter, it’s not your fault,” Draco said soothingly.

“Oh, really?” Harry suddenly drawled. “So who do I blame? Snape?”

“Yes!” Draco said quickly. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Snape was really good at fucking!” Harry scoffed. “Potter, I _told_ you that’s what he used to do for Voldemort! It’s no _wonder_ that you enjoyed it. And I’m positive that he probably tried _everything_ until he had ‘won’.”

Harry sneered angrily at Draco, but he couldn’t deny that he had made a good point.

“Potter, no one is going to think less of you,” Draco said reasonably.

“Don’t you?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco looked at Harry, startled that he would think such a thing. “Of course not! Merlin, Potter!”

Harry bowed his head and sighed. “I just wish...I just wish that my first time...doing _that_...was with somebody else,” he said below a whisper, flushing slightly.

Draco frowned. “Your first time?” He tried to ignore what the word ‘that’ implied.

Harry nodded and murmured, “Yes.”

“But...But Snape _wasn’t_ your first time,” Draco said, but then frowned and asked with a combination of shock and disbelief, “Was he?”

Harry peered over at him. “Yes,” he answered, barely nodding.

“But I thought you and--”

Harry suddenly gasped. “Who told you that?”

Draco instantly shook his head. “No one. I just thought you and...” He stopped so he wouldn’t say her name.

“What?” Harry barked. “That we were shagging all the time?” Harry accused, his voice rising.

“I don’t know!” Draco immediately said and Harry scoffed. Draco took a breath and held it before looking at Harry levelly. “Potter,” he began calmly. “You and her had been going out for a long time, and it was common knowledge that the two of you were going to get married--”

“So that automatically means that we _were_?” Harry demanded to know. “And I supposed everyone thinks that as well,” he said, sneering.

Draco sighed dejectedly. “I don’t know,” he said and this time Harry growled. “Look, Potter, the point I was trying to make was...” Draco stopped and took a deep breath and tried again. “I guess I’d just hoped that you had experienced your first time with someone else, that’s all.”

“Not that it’s any of _your_ business, Malfoy, but Ginny and I _did_.” He looked away and murmured, “Once.”

“Once?” Draco asked, confused.

Harry glared at him. “Yes, _once_ ,” he snapped, and then, unknowing why, Harry clarified. “The reason I considered it my first time with Snape is because it was the first time I had anal sex. And before you act all offended and think that I’m worried about being gay or some shit like that, it’s because I consider sex with a man different than sex with a girl!”

Draco nodded his understanding. “No offense taken.” He paused for a moment, then asked softly, “So you and her...only _once_?”

“We were waiting, all right?” Harry spat, suddenly annoyed. “We wanted it to be special. We wanted...” Harry’s words seemed to have got caught in his throat, and he turned away. He shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t about sex with us. It was about...love,” he finished.

Harry reached up to wipe off a tear that had fallen with the back of his hand. Staring out into the distance, he said, “I know that may sound old-fashioned to you, but we had _already_ given each other our heart and soul, and the wedding night was going to be when we...when we...” Harry stopped and covered his face in his hand. “Sealed our love forever,” he mumbled into his palm.

“That’s not old-fashioned, Potter. A lot of people wait,” Draco said sympathetically.

Harry turned half-way to face Draco, and snorted in disbelief.

“I’m serious. My cousin waited,” Draco said, still nodding.

Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“It’s true,” Draco confirmed. He looked at Harry with as much sincerity as possible. “But I don’t understand. If you two wanted to wait...Why didn’t you?”

“Snape, of course!” Harry screamed, and Draco flinched at his loud and hateful voice. “Snape had to ruin _everything!”_ he cried.

Draco gasped. “Snape _made_ you?”

“Don’t be daft, Malfoy! Of course he didn’t!” Harry snapped. “It happened the night before I found out about the Life-Debt.” Instantly, Harry became silent. He frowned sadly as he thought back on that special night.

“She...saw everything coming. She..." Harry’s voice faded. He quickly cleared his throat, and gazed into Draco’s eyes. "She knew something bad was going to happen, Malfoy. She _knew_.” Harry looked down at the ground. “If I had only listened to her. If only we had...” Harry choked, but then shook his head to clear it. “None of this would have happened.”

But Harry knew that that wasn’t true.

Harry glanced back over to Draco and gave a half-hearted laugh. “I guess I _had_ experienced the one thing that made life worth living for, hadn’t I?” Harry said, recalling how Draco had once put it. Then he remembered what else Draco had said about sex and love. Immediately, Harry raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated mocking expression. “Of course, _you_ wouldn’t know about _that_ , would you, Malfoy? Sex is just sex to you,” he jeered.

Harry’s expression quickly changed to confusion at the cold look Draco was giving him, and for some reason, it caused a cold chill to run through him.

Draco jumped to his feet.

“Fuck you! I don’t have to justify myself to _you_ or anyone else for that matter!” Draco yelled.

Harry stood slowly, and then crossed his arms over his chest in a somewhat challenge. “But isn’t that what you said?”

“I know what I fucking said!” Draco spat. “Yes, I have no problem with ‘just sex’, all right? But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to love!”

Harry was tempted to raise a skeptical eyebrow, but as he examined Draco’s face more closely, he noticed how his eyes were becoming glossy. It almost seemed like Draco was ready to cry.

“I have already _told_ you that I knew how you felt!” Draco reminded him snidely.

Harry’s brows furrowed, and frowned, feeling so stupid that he had forgot. “It was when we were in the forest,” he said, acknowledging.

Draco gave a sharp nod. “Yes,” he hissed angrily.

Harry looked at him with genuine concern. “He had...broken your heart?” he guessed.

“No! It wasn’t like that at all! He loved me as much as I loved him!” Draco yelled.

“Then what happened?” Harry asked carefully.

“None of your damn business!” Draco snapped.

Draco stormed a few feet away, and leaned on the large tree they were standing under with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. He glared up at the sky.

Harry timidly walked over to him and tried again. “Malfoy...”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Draco quipped curtly. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “It was a long time ago, so just drop it,” he finished firmly, but his voice sounded distant.

But Harry didn’t _want_ to let this go. He wanted to know what had happened to Draco that made him become so bitter about love. And he had a strange feeling that, even though Draco didn’t want to admit it, Draco _also_ wanted to talk about what had happened.

“Who was he?” Harry asked quietly. When Draco refused to answer, Harry tried again. “Was he from here?”

Draco kept his eyes closed, but still said nothing. Harry remained silent in hopes that Draco would continue on his own. A few minutes passed.

Finally, Draco sighed, shook his head and whispered, “No. We had known each other for a long time. Our families were very close.”

“What was his name?” Harry asked softly.

Draco opened his eyes and stared into space. “Bryant.”

“Were you two in love from the beginning?”

Draco shook his head again. “No. But there was an attraction. We just didn’t know what kind until later.”

“Did your families know?”

Draco’s expression turned hard. “Oh, yes. They knew,” he answered bitterly.

“They didn’t approve?”

Draco made a low growl in the back of his throat. “His father didn’t.” He sneered at Harry. “You see, Potter, in _some_ families, homosexuality is not acceptable. Especially within purebloods’ lineages.” Noticing a blank look on Harry’s face, Draco scoffed and clarified. “It’s assumed that a gay heir will not marry and produce a child.”

“Did your father feel the same way?” Harry asked carefully.

“Of course not,” Draco spouted. “In _my_ family, we are raised from birth to accept our responsibility of producing an heir.”

Harry nodded solemnly. Suddenly, Draco smirked and glanced over to Harry with a mischievous grin.

“Of course that doesn’t mean we can’t have lovers.”

Harry gasped quietly, then remembered what Draco had told him:

_"No sexual activities outside the marriage will be permissible unless otherwise discussed.”_

“And so your father _wouldn’t_ have minded if you took a male lover?”

Draco's grin widened. “That would be quite hypocritical of him.”

Harry’s mouth gaped. “Y-you mean he--”

Draco was still smiling, and he nodded his answer.

“Did your mother know?”

Draco shrugged. “She didn’t mind as long as she didn’t see it or hear about it.”

Harry's mouth fell open. “D-did she sleep with other men, as well?” he asked, slightly shocked.

Draco scrunched his nose. “Hardly,” he drawled. “She was completely in love with my father.”

Something about hearing that annoyed Harry. “So, your father was allowed to cheat, but not your mother?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not looked upon that way,” Draco said, scoffing. “Haven’t you ever heard of mistresses before, Potter?”

Harry thought a moment before he asked, “So...he didn’t love your mum?”

“Of course he loved her!” Draco immediately shot back defensively. He took a deep breath to calm himself because he knew Harry wasn’t trying to be insulting, and so he explained further. “Look, Potter, just because my father had lovers didn’t mean that he didn’t love my mother. He just enjoyed both sexes, and my mother understood that.” Draco paused. “The truth is that my father _worships_ her. And...he does it frequently,” he added with a grimace.

Harry frowned at Draco's expression. “What do you mean? Because he gives her flowers or something?”

“No, it’s because I caught them one night, all right?” he snapped, visibly disgusted.

“Oh. Er...was it...awful?”

Draco looked at Harry horrified. “No, it wasn’t ‘awful’! But that isn’t something a son wants to see his parents doing, all right? Especially in MY room!”

Harry opened his mouth to laugh, but quickly covered it with his hand.

“Now, can we please drop this because I have tried for _years_ to erase that memory!”

Harry nodded with his hand still covering his mouth. Fortunately, Draco was ignoring him. There was another lingering silence, and soon Harry's mind turned to Draco and _his_ marriage.

“Um, Malfoy? I know you have already said it was discussed, but do you think _your_ wife will secretly mind that you have lovers?”

Draco chuckled. “No, Potter. She won’t mind. Besides, she has no room to talk anyway.”

Harry gasped. “B-but won’t that bother _you_ knowing that she’ll sleep with other men?”

Draco raised his brows and shook his head at Harry’s naivety. “What makes you think that they would be men?” he drawled sarcastically.

“Oh,” Harry said until it dawned on him what that implied. “Oh!”

Draco chuckled again. “So you see? It’s a perfect arrangement,” he said simply.

Harry frowned. “But won’t that make it hard to...you know...produce an heir, if you both like your own sex?”

Draco sighed heavily. “Potter,” he tsked. “Just because we have different _preferences_ , does not mean it won’t be enjoyable.”

“You mean you’ve slept with a woman before?” Harry asked somewhat surprised.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course I have. One of my duties as a husband is to please my wife.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Draco regretted it.

“Potter, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Strangely, Harry wasn’t offended. He supposed it was different because it was about _Draco_ , and it was already pre-arranged. Whereas _Harry_...Harry immediately stopped that train of thought.

Harry looked at Draco, and after seeing Draco's guilt on his face, he quickly wanted to ease Draco's mind.

“It’s all right, Malfoy,” Harry assured him. When Draco’s expression didn’t change, Harry tried again. “I mean it, Malfoy. It’s all right. I know it’s a different situation with you.”

Draco still looked unconvinced, but nodded anyway. Harry quickly changed the subject.

“Er, so...it’s good that your father wouldn’t have had a problem with you and Bryant.” Seeing Draco immediately wince, Harry wanted to slap himself upside the head for opening his big mouth.

Draco sneered and narrowed his eyes. “Like I said previously, _my_ father wouldn’t have had a problem with Bryant. It was _Bryant’s_ father who disapproved,” Draco snarled.

Harry nodded. “Um, was he afraid that Bryant would refuse to marry?” Harry asked sincerely.

Draco clenched his jaw. “No. It was because he found out about us. You see, _his_ father never knew that Bryant was gay.”

Harry suddenly felt like an idiot. He should have known.

Draco continued, clarifying. “He demanded that we stopped ‘seeing’ each other. Bryant refused. He told his father that he would fulfill his ‘duty’, but to his father, that wasn’t the issue.”

“He just didn’t want a gay son,” Harry guessed.

“Exactly,” Draco quipped angrily.

“So what happened next?”

“I told Bryant to just humour his father, and once he was married, it would be too late for his father to do anything about it,” Draco said with a small grin.

Harry smirked. “How very Slytherin of you.”

Draco bowed his head mockingly. “Thank you.”

“So...?”

Draco tightened his jaw. “The bastard wouldn’t listen to me. He argued that his father was going to accept the fact that he had a gay son one way or another.”

“But you can’t change someone’s beliefs,” Harry stated quietly.

“I know that, but he didn’t!” Draco spat, annoyed. “Bryant was convinced that his father would listen to reason.” He looked at Harry. “You see, up until then, his father was always understanding.”

“But not about this,” Harry surmised, and Draco nodded. “So what happened then?”

Draco grunted. “I told you. Bryant wouldn’t let it go. They argued constantly,” he said, shaking his head. “Stupid prick,” he whispered, but there was a deep affection in his tone.

Draco pulled himself away from the tree and began to pace. He stopped short with his back facing Harry.

“After a couple of months...” Draco began softly. “He gave up. He was tired of fighting,” he said sadly. “He told me that he had had enough, and would do whatever his father told him.”

“So, he just gave up on... _you?”_ Harry asked, aghast.

Draco spun around. “That’s right, Potter! And by doing so, he gave up on life and everything he stood for! Just like _you_ did!”

Harry's face contorted defensively. “I did not!” he maintained.

“The fuck you didn’t!”

Harry gritted his teeth. He didn’t _want_ to admit it, but he knew Draco was right.

“So what did you do?” Harry asked, changing the topic back to Bryant.

“What I always did when he gave up,” Draco said, holding up his chin with confidence. “I made him angry.”

Harry raised a curious brow. “How?”

Draco shrugged nonchalantly as he smiled. “By telling him that he was a fucking coward,” Draco said, smirking. “It was so easy to get him mad.”

Harry suddenly felt a sort of déjà vu.

“And that worked?” Harry asked, ignoring his inner feeling for the time being.

Draco chuckled and nodded. “Every time. You see, Potter, he’s a lot like you. So quick to just lay down and _die,_ ” he said with disgust showing in his voice. “But I got him to get off his arse, and act like the stubborn bastard that he was.”

Ignoring Draco’s insult and the implication towards him, Harry asked, “So what did he do? Did he go back and argue with his father again?”

Instantly, Draco’s demeanour changed. He almost looked regretful. “Yes. The stupid git immediately went straight to his father and it...” He paused to look away. “It started all over again,” he sighed. “But this time, Bryant wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He was going to give his father an ultimatum: accept Bryant and my relationship, or he was going to...” His words lingered.

“To _what?”_ Harry persisted.

Draco looked at the sky. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.” He hugged himself and shook his head. “I should have stopped him,” he whispered to himself. “I knew that I had pushed him too far. I shouldn’t have--”

“But it wasn’t _your_ fault, Malfoy,” Harry offered sympathetically. “You couldn't have known what Bryant was going to do.”

“Of course I knew! I had known him for twelve fucking years!” Draco screamed. “I knew the idiot would have confronted his father again!” He stopped suddenly and looked away again. “I just never thought...Merlin, he was so angry. I’ve never seen him that angry.”

Harry watched helplessly as Draco clenched his fists and lowered his head.

“If he had only listened to me,” Draco said, voice cracking. “He would have...” Draco quickly closed his mouth and tightened his jaw.

Harry took a step closer. “Malfoy,” Harry said softly. “What happened?”

Draco's head shot up. Tears were streaming down his face. Harry gasped.

“Nothing!” Draco spat. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” He began walking away, back up to St Mungo’s.

Harry ran after him, grabbed Draco's arm, and spun him around. “Malfoy, talk to me!”

Draco wrenched his arm away. “I don’t have to tell you shit!”

“What happened after Bryant went to see his father?” Harry insisted. “He didn’t choose his father over you, did he?”

Draco's eyes widened in rage. “No! He would have never done that!” he shouted, crying harder.

“Then what _happened?”_

Draco closed his eyes tightly, and turned his face away. He shook his head, refusing to speak.

Harry reached out and gripped Draco's shoulders. “Malfoy, _tell_ me!”

Draco whipped his head back and pushed Harry away. “I never saw him again, all right? Are you happy now?” he cried.

Harry frowned. “He...he left you?” he whispered.

“Of course he didn’t, you idiot!” he screamed. “He...he...” Draco covered his face to hide his tears.

Harry gently touched Draco's shoulder, but his hand was immediately brushed off.

“Malfoy,” Harry began quietly.

Draco’s grief-filled eyes met Harry’s. “He disappeared that night!” he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. “He’s...he’s gone!”

Unable to stand any longer, Draco sank to his knees, and Harry instantly sat down beside him. Hesitantly, Harry wrapped his arm around Draco’s shivering shoulders, but this time Draco didn’t push him away. Harry began rubbing his back, trying to soothe him, but it wasn’t working. Draco’s breathing was becoming more erratic.

“Malfoy, please. You’re hyperventilating. You need to calm your breathing down,” Harry whispered.

Draco shook his head. Apparently, he didn’t care.

Harry shook Draco’s shoulders playfully. “Come on. You did it for me once. Now it’s _your_ turn.”

Harry immediately took a breath and surprisingly, Draco did as well. Harry took a few more and Draco followed.

“Wow. It really works,” Harry said with a smile.

Draco's head was still lowered but Harry heard him snort.

Harry decided to wait a few minutes before asking another question. When he thought enough time had gone by, he asked softly, “Malfoy, do you know what happened to Bryant?”

Draco inhaled sharply and stiffened, but nodded anyway. Harry waited again, wanting Draco to be the one to talk. After a long minute, Draco pulled away from Harry's enclosing arms, and peered up at him.

Although a few tears were running down his face, Draco raised an eyebrow. “Do you _really_ want to know, Potter?”

Harry's heart fell to his stomach. He really didn’t _want_ to know, but...he _had_ to. Hesitantly, Harry nodded, and then asked in a shaky voice, “They found him?”

Draco sneered. “Oh, they found him, all right,” he said sarcastically, but more tears fell. “There were pieces of him scattered everywhere,” he finished, choking on his words.

Harry covered his mouth and gasped. “Noooo.”

Draco nodded, looked away, and closed his eyes. He wiped away his tears that were flowing freely now.

“His own _father?”_ Harry whispered, unable to grasp that concept.

Again Draco nodded. He glanced at Harry. “Of course, it was never proven.”

Suddenly, Draco pulled his legs up to his chest, and hugged them tightly. “There’s more, though. His father...” Draco stopped to squeeze his legs harder and his body began to tremble. “His father left me a gift,” he choked out.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Somehow, Harry knew that he didn’t want to hear this part of the story.

Draco was fighting to calm down, but he knew it was impossible. In a quavering voice, he whispered, “B-but my father found it first.” Draco couldn’t help but whimper as more tears fell. “I-it was lying on my bed.” His red eyes met Harry’s. “You see, it was a ‘special’ part of Bryant meant just for me,” he finished with a slight drawl.

“NO!” Harry yelled. “Oh my God, Draco! No!”

Draco nodded, closed his eyes, and lowered his head to his knees.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” Harry shouted.

Draco inhaled deeply and raised his head. There was a small, evil smile on his lips. “You’re too late.”

Harry didn’t know whether to congratulate Draco or to be shocked. “Y-you...”

Draco slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Harry frowned before realising the obvious answer: Lucius.

“Of course _that_ was never proven either,” Draco said with a slight smirk. “Nor was he ever found.” He arched an eyebrow. “I guess I had a loving father after all, didn’t I?”

Harry was speechless. Lucius Malfoy? Killed his own _friend?_ Another _pureblood?_

Draco studied Harry's face. He could tell what Harry was thinking again.

“No matter what you might think of my father, Potter, the one thing our family has in spades is _loyalty._ My father was absolutely _appalled_ at what Bryant's father did to him. Killing your own son is unforgivable.” Draco paused for a moment. “Of course, my father was more furious that his _own_ son would have been subjected to seeing...seeing...” Draco's words lingered.

“I would have been, too!” Harry spat.

“But I wanted to see it,” Draco whispered so softly that Harry barely heard him.

“WHAT? Are you insane?” Harry shouted.

Draco flinched at Harry's booming voice. “I just wanted proof. Some sort of closure,” he said quietly.

“I hope to hell that you father refused!”

Draco flinched again, but nodded.

Harry exhaled loudly. “Thank God,” he mumbled.

Harry watched Draco as he stared out into space. He couldn’t have even imagined what it was like for Draco. Harry bit his lower lip and decided to change the subject back to happier times.

“Malfoy,” Harry began and Draco glanced over at him. “What was he like?”

Draco smiled warmly. “Stubborn. Once he had made his mind up about something, it was hard to convince him otherwise.”

Harry suddenly wondered if this was a bad decision. He didn’t want Draco to re-live this again. But fortunately, from the thoughtful look on his face, Draco was keen on continuing.

“He was also impulsive. He would immediately charge into something head first without thinking it through.” Draco shook his head with a grin. “Of course, that’s what I loved about him. He was such a fighter.” He glanced at Harry sadly. “It was so hard to see him break down like that. It wasn’t like him...” He paused. “And I didn’t like it.”

Harry frowned slightly. Even though it was obvious that Draco was getting uncomfortable now, there was something that was bothering Harry, and he wanted to know if his suspicions were correct.

“What did he look like?”

Without thinking, Draco replied, “Medium height, dark hair, dark skin, and always had a stupid grin on his face.”

Harry nodded. Yes, it was as Harry feared.

“And you made him angry every time he gave up,” Harry stated.

“Yes...” Draco drawled curiously.

“Like you did with me,” Harry stated again.

Draco frowned, not knowing where this was leading. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“So that’s it, isn’t it?” Harry said shortly.

Draco raised a confused brow. “What is?”

“He sounds just like me! And _that’s_ the reason you’re attracted to me, isn’t it? Because I remind you of Bryant?”

“No!” Draco said immediately.

Harry scoffed.

“Actually, he used to say that about you,” Draco whispered.

Harry gasped. _“What?”_

Draco’s heart skipped a beat when he realised that he had said that out loud. “Nothing! I said nothing!”

“Yes, you did!” Harry insisted.

“No, I didn’t!” Draco maintained. He rose to his feet, and turned like he was leaving.

“Just how long have you been attracted to me?” Harry asked softly, standing as well.

Draco spun around. “I haven’t been!”

Harry slowly shook his head, but gave Draco a warm and caring smile. “Yes, you have. For how long?”

Draco bared his teeth angrily. “It doesn’t matter! It didn’t matter then and doesn’t matter now!”

Harry frowned. “Why? Because I’m married?”

“Yes!” Draco shot back.

Harry smirked. “Not anymore, I’m not.”

Draco scowled. “It still doesn’t change anything, Potter,” he hissed. Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Draco cut him off. “Look, Potter, even though you _say_ you don’t care if you’re gay or not, you’re _not._ You’re straight. You were just _forced_ into being gay.”

“But I have...changed,” Harry said softly.

“How?” Draco asked sharply. He knew what this was about – and he dreaded it.

“I,” Harry began, and then closed his eyes as if that would somehow hide his confession. “I tried to kiss you. And...and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at you...in the shower room.”

There was an oppressive silence for a moment.

Draco smiled. “So you looked. So what? Everyone wants to look at me,” he joked.

Harry cracked an eye open. “And...” He paused to swallow. “You’re the one who...I would have wanted my first time to be with,” he confessed quietly.

“No,” Draco whispered.

Harry nodded. “Sometimes I’d close my eyes and pretend it was you.”

“Don’t say that!” Draco shouted.

“Why not?” Harry yelled back. “It's true! So why _shouldn't_ I say it?”

“Because...because...” Draco was at a loss for words and his mind was reeling with panic.

“I’m attracted to you,” Harry maintained.

Draco was now shaking with fear. “No,” he said, shaking his head. He took a step back. “No,” he said a little louder. “No! Stop this right now!”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Draco froze in anger. “How many times do I have to tell you? You're not gay!”

Harry opened mouth.

“Shut up, Potter! You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the truth is that you’re not! You even said so yourself, don’t you remember? ‘Not that kind of sex’.”

“I know what I said! But I was talking about Snape! Weren’t YOU listening?” Harry countered.

Draco ignored him. “And even if you were, I’d be just some _thing_ you’d experiment with!”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

“Yes, you would! So stop it, all right? You’re _not_ sexually attracted to me! You're just...you're just confused because I told you...” He turned around and crossed his arms tightly across his chest and lowered his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he mumbled.

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered, trying to get Draco’s attention. “I’m not playing with you. I’m not. And I’m not confused either. I’m telling you because I thought--”

Draco spun around, fists by his sides. “Well, you thought wrong!” He clenched his teeth hard, and took several breaths to calm himself. He closed his eyes and sighed. After a moment, he opened them and looked sadly at Harry. “Potter, please leave it alone. Please. You don’t know what this is doing to me, so please, for my sake, just let it go.”

“I-I can’t...” Harry began and he took a step, closing the gap between them. He leaned down until he could feel his breath caress Draco’s face. Suddenly, a hand was on his chest, forcing him away.

"I said stop it!" Draco hollered.

Harry gasped and fell backwards, landing on his bum with his hands behind him. He looked up at Draco with hurt and rejection clearly showing on his face.

"Potter, what will happen," Draco began, and then he paused, searching for the right words. He could do this. He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then slowly released it. He gazed straight into Harry’s sad eyes. "Potter, what will happen when Ginny comes back, and--"

"Leave Ginny out of this!" Harry shouted.

"No!" Draco yelled back, getting angry again. "Tell me you won't go back to her, Potter! Tell me that you don't love her! What will happen then? To _me?"_

Harry sat there frozen, opening and closing his mouth. "I...I don't know..."

"I'll tell you what will happen! The minute she gets here, you'll be running back into your true love's arms and I'll be _fucked!_ That's what's going to happen!"

"No," Harry whispered, shaking his head. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is and you know it!” Draco spat. “I will _not_ be used and then cast aside!”

Harry's eyes teared up. "It wouldn't be that way..."

"Oh, really? Then just how _will_ it be, Potter?"

Harry hung his head. "I...I want..."

"You don't know _what_ you want!" Draco said sharply.

Harry winced. "I know I don't want to lose you," he said quietly.

Draco sat down next to Harry and sighed, "You won't. I'll always be your friend."

Harry peered over at him. "What if I want more?" he asked softly.

"Well, you can't!" Draco snapped. "You can't have us both, Potter!"

Harry’s jaw muscles tightened. “You’re a fucking hypocrite!”

Draco narrowed his eyed and frowned. “What?”

“Telling me I can’t have both, but you sure as hell were going to have both when YOU got married!”

“That’s different!” Draco shot back defensively.

Harry raised a challenging brow. “How?”

Draco snorted. “Because for one thing, I was already in _love_ with Bryant, and we both knew that I _had_ to get married. Whereas YOU, on the other hand, would already be in a relationship!”

"I _know_ ," Harry sneered and turned away.

Draco watched as Harry's shoulders slouched, and his back shuddered from the tears Draco knew must be falling. He scrubbed his face with his hands. He turned sideways, and gently placed his hand on Harry's arm.

"Potter," he began quietly. "You told me over and over again how much you loved Ginny. What has changed?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I told you. I have," he said flatly.

"How? Because you were with a man?"

"Yes!" Harry said immediately. He looked away as he shook his head numbly. "No. It’s not that.” He stopped a moment to collect his thoughts. “What if...What if she doesn't want me now? What if...she's found somebody...someone else?"

"You don't know that," Draco said reasonably.

"Malfoy, she knew I'd be married for life. What makes you think she wouldn't have found someone already? Do you honestly think she would have waited until Snape died?"

"I would have," Draco said, just above a whisper, then gasped. "No! Stop! I shouldn't have said that!" He could feel Harry move closer towards him. He quickly forestalled Harry with a hand. “I said no!”

Harry let out a disappointed noise from deep within his throat, turned away, and ran his fingers through his hair to avoid showing Draco how much that had hurt him.

"Potter. Are you sure you're even ready? Ready to jump into another relationship? So soon? With _anyone?"_ Draco asked gently.

Harry barely shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. But I know...I just don't want to hurt her."

Draco carefully reached out and placed his hand on Harry’s in comfort. Harry peered sideways at him, and Draco could see that he was on the verge of crying. “Hey, I know you would never do that, and I'm positive that she knows that as well."

Harry pulled back his hand away. "That's not what I meant."

Draco tilted his head and searched Harry's dark expression for some kind of silent answer.

"What if..." Harry paused to lick his lips nervously. "What if I unconsciously...you know...forget I'm with her? A woman, I mean. I'd hurt her."

Draco opened his eyes wide, absolutely appalled. "You would NEVER do that and you know it!" he shouted. “God, that is the _stupidest_ thing I have ever heard in my life!”

Harry furrowed his brows and looked at him pleadingly. "But...what if I can't even bring myself to touch her?" He stopped to emphasise his words. "What if I'm not ready for... _sex?_ She shouldn't have to wait. It wouldn't be fair to her, and she deserves someone better than me.” Harry closed his eyes and hung his head. “Someone who's not so...messed up."

Draco swallowed hard and tried to get his thoughts under control. Strangely, everything Harry had just said - or was trying to say – had made perfect sense to him. He felt Harry’s conflict, and desperately wanted to find the appropriate words to console him, to tell him that he understood, but he couldn't think of anything that would ease Harry’s mind. Helplessly he stared at Harry's bent head.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered, and Draco flinched when Harry touched his hand. “I’ve been meaning to thank you. You have helped me so much...More than you could possibly know.”

Draco raised an eyebrow and barely smirked. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“More than friends,” Harry said, lowering his voice.

“Potter...” Draco warned.

“Please, let me finish,” Harry said quickly. He looked away briefly, then met Draco's eyes. “Malfoy, for months and months I had felt nothing. I just stopped caring. There was no one I could really talk to, and I felt so alone. But then you came...”

“Potter...” Draco warned again.

_“Please_ let me finish. You...you knew what I was going through. You understood. You _cared._ Remember how you told me that I remind you of Bryant?”

“I shouldn’t have--”

“Well, you remind me of Ginny and how she was always there for me,” Harry whispered.

“I’m not Ginny,” Draco said flatly.

Harry nodded. “I know. And I’m not Bryant. But this isn’t about them. This is about _us.”_

“No, it’s not,” Draco said adamantly, but his voice trembled.

“Yes, it is,” Harry said, still nodding. “Don’t you understand? For the first time in a _long_ time, I feel something, and it was _you_ , Draco, that did it.”

Draco blinked in surprise at hearing his given name, and inhaled sharply. He knew where this was going and it terrified him.

Harry saw this, but he continued anyway. “You made me _feel_ again,” he repeated. “You made me _want_ again. Not because I _have_ to, but because I _want_ to. I...I finally have the desire to touch someone again,” he finished quietly.

Draco's throat went dry and he tried swallowing to quench it.

“And it’s not about sex. Or being gay. I know this now,” Harry breathed. “It has to do with a person themselves. If you care enough about someone, then gender doesn’t matter, does it?” Harry waited for a response but Draco remained silent. He leaned towards Draco – just enough to violate his personal body space. “Does it?” he asked again with a sly grin playing on his lips.

Draco quickly panicked at Harry being so close, but shook his head numbly. “N-no,” he stuttered. “But...But you don’t want this...”

“Yes, I do,” Harry replied softly. “And so do you. Draco, for months I’ve wanted to do this. Please, let me. Just let me touch you,” he said, bringing his voice down low and sultry, and then reached out to touch Draco’s face.

Draco backed away slightly, and looked at Harry with a mixture of fear and apprehension in his eyes. Instinctively, he tried to stop Harry by grabbing his hands, and frantically tried to hold them tight. But Harry only leaned closer - _too_ close. Draco shook his head in denial. He was still trying to convince himself that Harry really didn’t want this, but the way Harry was looking at him, it was absolutely clear that he did.

When he felt Harry’s breath caress his cheek, Draco closed his eyes, and his limbs and muscles went weak involuntarily. Apparently sensing this, Harry slowly, but gently, disengaged Draco’s grip around his wrists, and then raised both of his hands to cup Draco's face with tender caution.

Instantly, Draco gasped at the unexpected touch, and his lips started to tremble. He licked them absently, and then inhaled sharply when Harry's mouth grazed over his. He could feel his heart as it pumped wildly in his chest. Suddenly, Draco lost the ability to speak. All he _could_ do was mouth the word 'no'. 

Draco quickly grabbed Harry's jumper, and whimpered as a pair of soft pliant lips pressed gently against his. When he felt Harry's tongue lick tentatively at his mouth, begging for his consent, Draco was caught between the urge to end this, or to follow his instincts and devour Harry. He moaned as more pressure was added, and unconsciously, Draco parted his lips further. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe as the first touch of Harry's tongue slid across his own. Draco couldn't stop shaking, and he knew if he was to let go of Harry's jumper, he would lose himself completely in this simple kiss.

But it _wasn't_ a simple kiss. It held more emotions than Draco had _ever_ experienced in his entire young life – including the ones he had shared with Bryant. In fact, Harry was placing such a powerful feeling into it that it was consuming Draco. He now realised what Harry was trying to say...

This kiss wasn’t about sex. It _was_ about wanting. It _was_ about feeling. And it was about... _desire._

Unable to stop himself, Draco let the passion overwhelm his senses, and released one of his hands that were grasping at Harry's jumper, and wound his fingers through the back of Harry's hair. He pressed himself closer to Harry, and Harry moaned into Draco's mouth. Nothing else mattered to Draco at this moment save this kiss. The kiss that Harry had wanted and the kiss Draco had always dreamed about.

All too soon, Draco felt Harry slowly pull away, and it took every ounce of self-control not to draw Harry back to him. He kept his eyes firmly closed because he knew that if he was to open them, reality would come back, and the kiss would be over.

Regretfully, Draco untangled his fingers from Harry's hair, and then was relieved to hear a whimper coming from Harry. Obviously, Harry had felt this loss as well. Draco sighed as Harry placed his cheek against his, and hot breath coated Draco's ear.

"That was...incredible," Harry whispered, one hand still lingering on Draco's cheek, the other moving to the back of Draco's neck – almost as if he was preventing Draco from pulling away.

Draco's erratic breathing filled Harry's ear, and he waited patiently for some sort of a response from Draco. Finally, he pulled back enough to look at Draco's face, and studied his expression. Was it...regret? Did Draco not feel what had passed between them? Harry watched as one lone tear escape from Draco's closed eyes. He instinctively wiped it away with his thumb. Draco flinched slightly, and if it weren’t for Harry's hand still cupping Draco's face, he wouldn't have felt it at all. As Harry waited for Draco's eyes to open and focus properly, it suddenly became clear to him what Draco was feeling.

Draco was absolutely terrified.

Harry looked at Draco intently, then whispered, "Draco. I'm not going to hurt you. I would _never_ hurt you. Please believe that."

Draco pulled back enough to remove himself from Harry's tender hand, and to see Harry's sincerity.

"Potter," Draco began through a raspy voice. He cleared his throat and tried to speak again without showing just how scared he really was. "Ginny...You still love her." He didn't want to hear the truth, but he needed to be brave and _confront_ it. 

As to be expected, Harry bit his lip and looked down. He nodded. "I know. I do love her. A part of me will _always_ belong to her." He closed his eyes, not wanting to see if Draco was hurt by his words. "But then there's you and...and...I know it doesn't make any sense, but I know what I want; what I'd like to happen..." He opened his eyes and choked out, "I just don't know what to do," he confessed. Harry closed his eyes once more, and new tears fell as he let out a shaky sob. "I don’t know what to do,” he repeated quietly.

Draco instinctively pulled Harry to his chest and began stroking his hair. "Shh," he whispered. "It's all right."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's not," he mumbled into Draco's jumper. "Because I know you're right. It _is_ too soon....But..." Harry stopped to take a breath. "I want…you...her...me...God, I'm so confused!" He bent his head and his shoulders began to shake.

Draco sighed, and continued to rub Harry's trembling back. He understood all of the conflicting emotions that were running through Harry and how it was confusing him, and Draco's own insecurities faded.

He took a deep breath, and said soothingly, "Believe it or not, I _do_ understand what you're feeling." Harry's shaking increased and Draco hugged him tighter. "But I can't make that decision for you, Harry. Only _you_ can." He gently pushed Harry back, and looked at him seriously. "And truthfully, I don't think you can, either. Not now anyway.”

Harry opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue, even though he knew Draco was right.

Draco smiled at him. “Just know that I will always be here for you. As your friend,” he added.

Harry shook his head. “No...”

“Friends, Potter,” he said firmly.

“But what if...”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when and _if_ we come to it. All right?”

Harry suddenly panicked. "But that’s not fair. To you _or_ to her. You shouldn’t have to wait for me.”

"I think you ought to leave _that_ decision to me," Draco said resolutely and then he smirked. "Besides, you didn’t honestly think you could get rid of me _that_ easily, did you, Potter?"

Harry smiled shyly. "Not even if I wanted to," he teased back. Suddenly, Harry's expression turned somber. "Ginny shouldn't have to wait either. She should just--"

"I think you need to ask _her_ what _she_ wants to do," Draco interrupted. He gestured with his head for Harry to turn around and look behind him.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened. He barely shook his head in denial, but Draco nodded.

"Harry," a woman's voice called out from somewhere behind him.

Now Harry's heart fell to his stomach. In slow motion, he turned and held his breath, disbelieving what his eyes were seeing.

There, sitting on a bench, bundled up in a blanket from her shoulders to her feet, was Ginny.

Ginny Weasley.

 

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	41. Chapter Forty One

  
Author's notes: New chapter is UP!! Every choice and decision in Harry’s life has been made by the wizarding world. Now the only thing he has had control over - his freedom - is threatened. Will Harry succumb to this new challenge as he usually does or will he finally stand up and fight? … Because there is only so much a man can take before his soul dies.  


* * *

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*SQUEEE* It's finally done! I have been waiting for _years_ to tell the story of what happened to Ginny!

And here it is!

Please let me know what you think!

Annie

 

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**Chapter Forty One**

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"I think you need to ask _her_ what _she_ wants to do," Draco interrupted. He gestured with his head for Harry to turn around and look behind him.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened. He barely shook his head in denial, but Draco nodded.

"Harry," a woman's voice called out from somewhere behind him.

Now Harry's heart fell to his stomach. In slow motion, he turned and held his breath, disbelieving what his eyes were seeing.

There, sitting on a bench, bundled up in a blanket from her shoulders to her feet, was Ginny.

Ginny Weasley.

"Oh, God."

Harry rose to his knees in shock, then looked back at Draco, panicking. His eyes pleaded with Draco to help him. Help him speak, help him breathe, but mostly, help him to _move._ This was the moment Harry had always dreamed about, but that’s all it ever was. A _dream._ Harry never once dared to believe that he would actually see her again. Hoped? Yes. Believe? No.

But yet here she was, and just a few feet away...

...and Harry was suddenly and absolutely _terrified._ He honestly didn’t know what to say to say to her. And it wasn’t because he was in shock and would sound like a bumbling _fool_ , but he was also afraid of the answers to the thousands of questions he had.

Harry continued to silently plead with Draco, but the blond simply smiled at him and nodded. "Go on," he mouthed. “She's waiting for you."

Harry’s eyes widened briefly, but then quickly reminded himself that Draco was never afraid of Ginny. Only him. Harry and his confused feelings for the blond _and_ for--

“Potter!” Draco hissed quietly, snapping him out of his scrambled thoughts. “Go _on_ ,” Draco mouthed.

Harry closed his eyes and took a couple of quick but deep breaths to calm himself. When he opened his eyes he noticed that Draco was smirking at him and shaking his head in amusement.

“Merlin, Potter. Close your mouth,” Draco whispered. “And _go_ to her before I hit you,” he finished with a grin.

Incredibly, that small bit of teasing relaxed Harry, and he gave Draco a tiny embarrassing smile and turned back to Ginny.

Ginny was smiling at Harry like Draco was, but it was a different type of smile. One that Harry knew all too well. It was the smile Ginny had always given Harry right before she screamed with excitement at seeing him again after being apart for a long time. In an instant, Harry was filled with all the memories he had held on to and the unconditional love he remembered.

Harry wanted to run to her so badly, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to. His body was shaking too hard from happiness, and at the same time...nervousness. And so Harry began to crawl on his hands and knees; he didn’t trust his legs enough to support him if he had tried to walk. Thankfully, she wasn’t that far away from him.

When he had finally reached Ginny, he sat back on his heels, swaying slightly. Again he asked himself: Was this real? Was she _really_ sitting before him? Or was this just one of his dreams? Harry quickly blinked away the tears (which he wasn’t aware of until now), so he could focus properly, and then looked into her beautiful hazel eyes. It was then that he noticed his stream of tears matched hers.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to find his voice. He swallowed hard and tried again.

"G-ginny," he finally managed to choke out. "I...I thought I'd never see you again."

Ginny closed her eyes, obviously savouring the sound of his voice. She opened her eyes and smiled lovingly at him. "Harry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Now it was Harry's turn to close his eyes. A quiet sob left his lips as he let her soft voice wash over him. He gasped and immediately opened his eyes when he felt warm familiar fingers caress his face.

"Harry," Ginny began again. "I always knew..." She suddenly stopped to stifle a sniff. "...that I would see you again."

_"Ginny,"_ Harry cried softly and lay his head on her lap, wanting desperately to hold her and never let go. "I've missed you so much," he whispered, trembling. It was a full minute before Harry slowly raised his head to look back into her eyes. New tears fell. "Where...where have you been?"

Ginny reached down and instinctively wiped his tears away, causing Harry to inhale sharply and lean into her hand. All too soon, though, she pulled her arm away and buried it back in the blanket. Ginny lowered her head and quietly sighed.

"Much to tell you..." she whispered softly. "So much has happened."

She looked back up at Harry, and then slowly glanced over to her right. Leaning against a large tree, stood a tall, burly man. Harry followed her eyes and instantly his mouth fell open. He gaped at the young man, who was no older than he was, and then turned back to Ginny in horror. Ginny smiled and shook her head.

"He's only a friend, Harry," Ginny said reassuringly and held her sincere gaze until Harry visibly relaxed. "His name is Andrei Krum.” Harry frowned, wondering if he was… “Yes, Harry,” Ginny replied, answering Harry's unspoken question. “His older brother is Victor. I met him at Durmstrang and he ..." She closed her eyes and paused for a second. Ginny opened her eyes again, looking ashamed. "…helped me get away," she finished quietly.

Harry's frown deepened. "But why? _Why_ did you have to go away?" he asked, voice wavering.

Ginny softly sighed, bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. A tear escaped. "It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but...I couldn't bear the thought of me being so close to you and ... not being able to see you."

Harry opened his mouth to argue that it wasn’t _her_ fault, it was her _father’s._

Right on cue, Ginny opened her eyes and explained further. "It was my idea, Harry," she said quickly. Harry looked up at her, surprised. "It was _my_ idea to leave Hogwarts. I just couldn't..." She paused to take a breath. "I thought it would be harder on you if I stayed." She looked down, hugging herself tighter in the blanket. "And me as well," she added, whispering. 

"But...why did you leave _home_?"

Ginny closed her eyes tightly and took another deep breath. "I knew if I stayed, he would have ... I couldn’t let him..." She shook her head and inhaled deeply, apparently calm down and collect her thoughts. "I did some research, Harry,” Ginny declared matter-of-fact once she had opened her eyes. “He had already taken _you_ away from me and I couldn't bear it if he took ..." Ginny pursed her lips together tightly and new tears ran down her cheeks. She blinked quickly and then sadly looked back at Harry. "It would have been his right, Harry."

Harry pinched his brows together and tilted his head, lost.

“Don’t you see? I _had_ to leave,” Ginny quietly sobbed. “It wasn’t enough to leave Hogwarts. I had to...” Ginny inhaled deeply and then tried again with more tears escaping. “Once I knew for _sure,_ I just had to...Oh Harry, I was so scared and I panicked!”

Harry’s brows remained furrowed as he desperately tried to understand what she was trying to say.

Seeing this, Ginny’s worried look left her and it was replaced by a gentle and loving smile. She reached out for Harry's hands and the blanket parted slightly. As she pulled Harry closer to her, the material fell silently off her shoulders. Harry kept his eyes solely on Ginny the whole time and let himself be guided to his knees. Gazing into her caring eyes and warm expression, everything else was lost to Harry. It simply didn’t matter. She was here _now._ _That’s_ what mattered.

He sighed contently as she cupped his cheeks and he let his eyes flutter shut. He reached up with his hand and covered hers.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and smiled lazily at her. 

Ginny's smile had turned into a full grin. She removed her hands from Harry’s face and pulled slightly on Harry's wrists, bringing him that much closer to her. She gently placed Harry's hands on her protruding stomach and it took a moment before Harry understood the significance of this move. He glanced down at Ginny's stomach and frowned, confused why it was larger than...

Instantly, Harry gasped loudly. His mouth fell open and stared in wonder. She was...she was...

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered.

He quickly glanced up at Ginny, still needing a confirmation. She smiled in amusement and nodded. But suddenly, Harry's heart filled with dread. What if it was...? He looked over at Andrei then back to Ginny with terrified eyes.

Ginny shook her head with a small smile. "No, Harry. He's yours." Harry gasped sharply. " _Ours._ "

Harry glanced back and forth between Ginny and her stomach. "M-mine?"

"Yes, Harry. _Yours_."

“Mine,” Harry echoed. After a moment of awe, he looked back at Ginny and frowned. "But...but...I don’t understand. We were only together... _once_."

Ginny smiled playfully and squeezed his hand. "I guess that's all it took."

Harry blushed slightly as he lowered his gaze to her stomach and caressed it with care. "Mine," he mused, but then it dawned on Harry what else Ginny had said and looked up at her. " _He?_ "

Ginny's grin widened as she nodded. "Yes. A boy.” She paused briefly and then whispered solemnly, “Now you know why I had to leave. He would’ve taken him."

Harry winced at that thought but nodded; his eyes never leaving his hidden son.

"Harry," she said, tugging his wrists to get his attention. He looked up. "I knew...I knew you'd be free and that we see each other again... _before_ he was born."

Harry was confused. "How did you know ...?" Then he remembered. She knew. She _always_ knew. She never knew _how_ she knew; she just did. Ginny was gifted that way.

“And I knew you would have figured out what really happened,” Ginny said with certainty in her voice.

Harry sighed loudly. “No,” he whispered, voice trailing. “I didn’t.”

"You _did_ get my present, didn't you?" she asked with a sly smile and a wink.

"That was _you?”_ Harry gasped. _“You_ gave me the 'truth' ball?"

Ginny nodded. "I knew it was all a lie. Don't ask me how I knew. I just...did."

"Then why didn't you come back and tell me? Tell everyone?"

"Nobody would've believed me, Harry. They would've thought..." She paused. "I didn't have any proof. Besides, I _knew_ you would've figured it out by yourself. And you did," Ginny finished, smiling.

Harry blushed. "With your help," he whispered.

Suddenly, Harry’s face grew tight and he looked away.

"What’s wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked, squeezing his hand automatically.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"For what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"For not believing you. That day. If I just would have listened to you, we could've left and we would have been able to--"

"No," Ginny interrupted firmly. "You and I both know that he would've found us. It was...better this way. For both of us." She stroked her stomach. "For all three of us."

Harry nodded reluctantly and looked down at Ginny’s tummy, frowning. Damn Severus Snape.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, gently touching his cheek and nudging it enough so he would look up at her. "We're together _now_."

Harry nodded but then quickly pulled his hands away and sat back on his heels. He looked at the ground and closed his eyes. "Ginny, I ..." he began, but his voice left him. How was he going to explain himself? How was he going to tell her that he wasn’t worthy of her? That she shouldn’t waste her time with him?

And neither should Draco.

"Harry. Harry, look at me." He shook his head. "Harry," Ginny said more firmly.

Harry lifted only his eyes and peered through his fringe. 

Ginny leaned down and stroked his hair. "You've been through so much," she said, trying to show him just how much she cared and how much she understood.

Harry looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

"Harry," Ginny whispered soothingly. "It wasn't your fault. There's _nothing_ to feel guilty about. You did _nothing_ wrong."

Harry released a small sob. Harry closed his eyes and he could feel tears falling. “I let him--”

“No!” Ginny snapped and Harry opened his eyes and jumped. “You did _nothing_ wrong! It was _he_ that...” Suddenly, Ginny stopped and clenched her jaw, obviously not wanting to say more. She inhaled deeply, looking like she was trying to calm herself down. She exhaled slowly and took Harry's hand.

"Harry,” Ginny said softly. “You’re not ready for another relationship. Not this soon."

Harry’s head jerked up and he opened his mouth to say, _“Yes, I am!”_ but Ginny forestalled it with a shake of her head.

"No, you're not. And _you_ know you're not."

Immediately, a thought occurred to Harry. He turned his head and looked over at Andrei with fear. Was she just saying this because of _him_? Did her feelings change because of him?

"No, Harry," Ginny said as if she read his mind. "He's only a good friend. He has helped me a lot." Ginny laughed. "It's not easy being around a pregnant woman. Especially a red-headed one."

"And a Weasley," Harry chuckled, remembering all so well Ginny's temper.

"I think I scared him a few times," she whispered and then laughed again. "Of course, he _is_ getting better at dodging flying objects."

Harry looked back over to Andrei sympathetically. He turned to Ginny and worried his lowered lip with his teeth. “Ginny,” he began softly. "It's all right if anything _did_ happen between--"

"But it didn't," she said firmly. Ginny sighed as she looked at Andrei sadly. "I know he wants more, but I can't..." She paused. "He's always been there for me, and he knows what I have been going though, but..." She sighed again and looked away. "I know it doesn't make any sense."

"Hey," Harry whispered, taking her hand in his and rubbing it. "It does make sense. It does. And I _do_ understand. It's not...fair."

Ginny smiled then looked over Harry's shoulder. "For him as well."

Harry's head whipped around to Draco, who was trying his best to pretend that he wasn't watching. Harry spun back around, embarrassed.

“Ginny! I--”

Ginny's smile deepened. "It's all right, Harry. I know he's helped you." Harry's face turned redder. "And I'm glad _he's_ been there for _you_."

"Ginny," Harry said, still panicking. " _Nothing_ happened. I swear. I just...I mean we just..."

"Harry,” Ginny said, shushing him. “It’s all right. And it's all right if anything _did_ happen." She linked their fingers together and leaned towards him. "I know you're confused right now, Harry, and I know you're not ready to decide anything just yet." She smiled again and stroked his hand with her thumb. "I can wait.” Ginny glanced at Draco. “ _We_ can wait."

Harry jumped to his knees. "But you shouldn't _have_ to! All of you should just--"

"Harry James Potter!" Ginny hissed loudly. "Don't you _dare_ tell me or _anyone else_ what we should or shouldn't do! That will be _our_ decision and not _yours!"_

Harry instantly lowered his head. "But...I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly. "And...I don't want to lose you." He swallowed hard. He looked back at Draco. "Or him," he admitted, blushing.

“And you won’t. You won't hurt me, and you will _never_ lose me." She pulled him up to his knees. "And I know you'll _never_ hurt Draco. _Or_ lose him.”

"But it doesn't make any sense," Harry replied. He paused for a moment and then covered his face, embarrassed. "I shouldn't be feeling this way. It's not right. It's not--"

"Harry, listen to me," Ginny said, stopping him. "What you're feeling. It's perfectly normal."

Harry looked up and shook his head. "No, it's not. It's _not_ normal."

Ginny smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "It may not seem like it now, but it is."

"How can you say that?" Harry asked sincerely. "What if I can't..." He looked away. "I mean what will happen if--" 

"Shh, don't worry about that right now," Ginny whispered. “Right now you just need time to heal."

"Time," Harry echoed distantly.

"I love you, Harry Potter. I always have and I always will."

A tear fell as he looked up into her hazel eyes. "I love you, too."

Harry closed his eyes and then leaned forward to close the small distance separating them. Their lips met and they both moaned into each other’s mouth as the kiss deepened. When they finally parted, they both smiled as they wiped each other’s tears away. Ginny pulled him close and hugged him the best she could over her large stomach.

"I'll always be here for you, Harry. No matter _what_ you decide." Ginny hugged him tighter. "And so will Draco."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_To be concluded in the Epilogue..._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


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